Half and Half
by notthetype
Summary: Did anyone ever think that Spock and Uhura just make too much sense? What if there was another option? What if there was a girl who's everything Spock NEVER wanted? Spock, OC, Chekov, Uhura, Bones, Kirk and Gaila. Rated for final chapter only.
1. Intro: On Prejudice

**AN: Hi all, this is my first fanfic, so hope you like it. R&R please, 'cause I can use all the help I can get.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek or any of its characters. (only this poxy laptop, a decent camera and some funky boots, yay.)**

Prejudice is a funny thing.

Now, you'd think it would mostly apply to other people's ignorance, to the way they misunderstand or are too limited in their own worldview to comprehend anything beyond it, but the real problem with prejudice is when you turn it on yourself.

It's a sure sign of growing up when you realise that your parents have given you more than a funny quirk of your lips or the colour of your eyes; they have in fact passed on their own misconceptions to you, and merely realising that they are misconceptions does not always solve the problem.

Aureya knew that she was smart. Hell, her IQ and technical aptitude were practically off the charts; she could fix just about anything around the house and had no problems with theoretical mathematics or quantum physics; but then there was still prejudice.

Being half and half of anything was probably a though thing at all times, but being half human and half Orion had to be near the top of that list.

Aureya had never really met her mother- Orions were not known for their parental instincts, and a little green bundle was easily abandoned- but she knew that her father's opinion smacked too much of hurt and bitter disappointment to be anything to go by. That, however, did not stop her from believing that some of her mother's alleged qualities had to be true of herself as well.

Unreliable, manipulative, driven entirely by wanton emotions, calculating, and sensually gluttonous were only a few of the attributes she had vowed to free herself from, whether they were actually true or merely because the world around her assumed that they had to be.

And then there was Starfleet; all she could ever wish for for herself, open-minded, brave endeavour of uniting the races of this galaxy and beyond, overlooking the small differences and striving towards a greater good; no more prejudice, no more sense of inferiority, just the pursuit of peace and knowledge…. and lots of toys, big shiny toys.

Getting accepted into Starfleet's engineering programme just about managed to rank on the top ten list of best things to have ever happened to her, mild understatement that. This was her chance to prove herself, not only to her father but more importantly to herself.

"Some of you might have heard that Subspace physics was _eeeeasy, _that the whole engineering business is simply a matter of tightening a few screws here and amplifying a few proton fields there …" Commander Lennox gave a derisive laugh, holding his substantial beer belly like a trophy and giving them all a patronising smirk "Bollocks, complete and utter wank" no trace of a smile remained, instead he glared menacingly at the students in the front row of the lecture theatre. "Now those little pussies in their prissy little yellow shirts might tell you that engineers are the underlying structure of a star ship, that none of them could do their _important _work without you, but all that means is that they think they're the dog's bollocks and you are their skiffy. Want to know how this really works? – They are fuck all without us, fuck all. My meaning- there is no ships, no interstellar travel, no bloody Starfleet without _us_."

Aureya gleefully noted the scandalised expressions of some of her fellow freshmen. Oh this was just sooo going to be up her alley; engineering and cursing like a sailor; fuck yea!

"… in conclusion, any nominal difference, and bare in mind that _nominal_ in the context of this particular equation may be as negligible as .0000001 of a decimal, should indicate to you that there has been a gross error in the formula applied to solve the afore mentioned equation. Any queries?"

Stunned, perplexed and utterly incredulous would have been a few of the words to describe the students' reaction to Commander Spock's introductory lecture on applied mathematics. No "hello, my name is…", no "this term you will be expected to…", no "applied mathematics is important because…", just wham, solve this, do that, homework is thirty pages of your core text and don't even think about uttering so much as a groan. "Fascinating" was all that Aureya managed to think.

Potluck would have it that Aureya's roommate was a compulsive obsessive human with a clear inclination towards over-complicated syntax and unnecessary prepositions, which made light conversation something of a challenge. Who, in their right mind still used "whom"? By Darwin, the girl was positively incapable of small talk; however, Cadet Uhura, first name as yet a bizarrely guarded secret, was friendly, smart and possessed- and here her genetic value system kicked in unrequested – a lovely singing voice, so all things considered, things could have been worse. Not only that, but Uhura proved to be an invaluable study buddy, her thirst for knowledge and her frantic need for achievement matching Aureya's own perfectly, which on more than one occasion lead to all-nighters fuelled by coffee, chocolate and no small amount of faculty gossip, which Uhura, as a second year, was happy to provide.

"Ooooo, Lennox, well there's an antithesis and a half for you, IQ of 176 and no inclination to behave accordingly. "Used to be quite docile and presentable until his wife died four years ago, hasn't really censured himself since then, sad thing that."

"I don't know, I like him. Ballsy. Speaks his mind." Aureya felt like she was called to defend her engineering professor, even though there had been no real slight to him.

"Ballsy, perhaps, professionally inept, definitely" was all Uhura had to say in reply.

"What about Commander Spock, he seems….um…interesting?"

"You can say that again, total oddity, half human and still acts, like the entire human race is a bunch of wayward toddlers, quite brilliant though."

"You don't like him then?" Aureya surmised. "I wouldn't say that, what do you think? I, for one, think that his sheer genius excuses a lot, but I suppose he's still weird."


	2. Pointy Eared Prick

**Ok, so my disclaimer and author's note clearly did not work out on chapter one (I am a technical imbecile, so that might explain that) Man, I even had some smartass comment about how I owned nothing but this poxy laptop and a funky pair of boots, damn.**

**Anywhooo, lets try this again from the top:**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek or any of its characters (wished I did, but I don't)**

**AN: Roish, so this story is AU (or should that be AAU, seeing as the movie itself is already AU?), I'm introducing my own OC, which is something really dodgy because they only work half of the time but I read outtabreth's little trilogy (someone remind me to favourite that) and simply fell in love with her Gaila. My own character is really only bits of Gaila, but that is still where she started. And as much as I love the whole Uhura/Spock thing, it just makes too much sense to be fun. So there.**

**Also, who the heck is Audrey? And Lennox is professionally what? I hate auto correct! **

Waking up used to be one of Aureya's very favourite things to do. That gradual glide from oblivion to a partially conscious state, where sleep would cling to her like a barely visible veil, to the wide awake feeling of the new day and all its tantalising possibilities stretching out in front of her. 'No more. The human energiser bunny one bed down made sure of that.

"Good morning!"

"Nnnnnnnnnn." The pillow tasted mildly of detergent.

"You should really come along to the hand to hand elective. You'll have to do basic battle training next term and you might as well get a head start. …Also, you're kind of short, I assume you can use all the help you can get."

"Faaaa offfffff" hm, she knew she should have gone for the coco butter scented softener instead of the pine one, yuk!

"It's really informative too, different members of faculty staff with combat experience volunteer to help out. You would find some of the Klingon blades interesting, I'm sure. You like shiny things, right?" Uhura simply kept talking.

"Uhaaaaa, ifff, fif, in, fe, monin!" "And I'm not a magpie." Aureya had finally managed to lift her head off the pillow. "Thanks for pointing out the short thing by the way, I hadn't noticed."

"Well you are surprisingly short for an Orion. Isn't your species generally tall, and sort of a willowy kind of curvy?"

"I am sorry? Are you really trying to discuss my physical shortcomings- oh excuse the pun- with me at five in the morning?... also, half, I'm only half Orion."

"No. … um, well, yes you are short, but I'm sure men would call you "cute", you have very infantile features and those curls and the freckles only underline those attributes. And I would not worry too much about your figure, it is very well proportioned for someone so small." Uhura smiled reassuringly.

"Newton's teeth, Uhura, you sure know how to talk pretty to a girl. Fine, I give up, I'm coming along. All of a sudden I feel like kicking or hitting someone right now might not be such a bad idea. … "Oh and Uhura, about the freckles… don't go there, sore point. Rust on snot, someone out there has a warped sense of humour."

"Well I don't think your complexion is anything like snot, more like an appely pastelle green, or like you are a very nauseated human."

"Uuunnn, let's go. Now!"

By 0800 hours that very same day, Aureya was ready to go to sleep all over again. The instructor for this particular morning's session had been Commander Walton, 100% human, no special physical abilities, no weapons; but one mean son of a bitch. His view on the matter of training for hand to hand combat was that none of them were ready, since none of them had been broken, degraded and humiliated enough to truly appreciate his very powerful teachings on violence. So he started on the whole breaking business. After screaming at a painfully young looking cadet with curly blond hair for 10 minutes flat, Aureya couldn't take it anymore.

"Sir, excuse me, Sir." Steely blue eyes shot away from the now sniffing cadet and roamed the group of uncomfortable looking students. Aureya took a step forwards, she wouldn't put it past Walton to turn on someone else at random. He looked at her with something like surprised amusement, then gave one derisive laugh. "Where's the rest of you, then?" "Oh well, " Aureya thought "it was nice knowing me." Out loud she said: "Sir, I fail to understand how Cadet … um, sorry what's your name?" "Chekov, Pavel Andreievich." Came the somewhat choked answer from behind Walton. "… how Cadet Chekov's mother, his paternity or any of his intellectual abilities are relevant to combat training. Furthermore, Sir," at this point Aureya was struggling to remain ramrod straight with her hands clasped behind her back, the urge to roll her hips to one side and place her hands on them became almost overwhelming. "I am sure a Klingon would consider what you just threw at Cadet Chekov as a pep talk, but I wonder if demoralising your human crew is really a worthwhile practice, Sir."

" Oh holy crap Aureya you're and idiot, you stupid, stupid, green skinned piece of moronic ass." a disbelieving voice was screaming inside her own head. Walton meanwhile looked first a little confused, then outraged and finally went straight back to amused.

"Uh-oh."

"You and me are going to have a lot of fun together?" She'd heard that one before but mostly from guys who made assumptions about the colour of her skin and who she usually never bothered to explain about pheromone suppressants and traumatising puberty to, she just punched them. 'Not and option right now.

"Name, Cadet?"

"Newman, Sir." Walton looked surprised at that "Takes all sorts, eh?"

"Battle stance, Cadet Newman. We are going to demonstrate a little move I like to call the Walton flip for your fellow students, and once each and every one of them can perform it, you can give me 20 laps around the training grounds. Any idea as to why?"

"Yes, Sir. My apologies, Sir."

"Oh, and Chekov, you can join your tiny green knight in shining armour on the laps."

"Yes Sirr, thank you, Sirr."

"Ah, on second thought, no laps for you."

Exhausted, sore and really, really pissed off, Aureya made her way to her first class of the day. Applied mathematics and non-linear logic was one of her favourites, or had been for all of the three classes she had had so far, but even that could not lighten her mood now. She hated the fact that Uhura had been right; she needed help with the whole hand to hand combat thing. And damn that stupid son of a bitch Walton for having demonstrated just how much help that was. She was here on academic grounds but screw it, she was going to show these tall scrawny idiots what she could do. Still deep in thought, and probably scowling heavily, Aureya didn't notice the young man excitedly scanning the crowd of students entering the lecture theatre.

"Oh, I found you. I vonted to thank you for today…. Mmm, thank you, you are fery brave."

"_Stupid_, I am very _stupid_, you mean." She gave Chekov a smile. ""You in this class?"

"Yes, vell, no, I am Commander Spock's student aide. I saw your name on the class list."

"Student aide? How old are you?"

"Sixteen." Chekov positively beamed at her.

"Wow, and I thought I was special because I got to skip two grades, well, guess not."

"I looked at your profile, your test scores are fery impressive. Vhy did you choose the Engineering department ower Science?"

"I like toys." Aureya laughed "Things that go boom, or even better, things that go really, really fast. – 'You are in Science then?"

"No, I specialise in nawigation." He smiled. Aureya gave him a huge grin:

"So you like fast too, then."

"Cadet, should you not be inside by now? Mr Chekov, I believe that I requested that you set up my equipment for today as I was going to be held up by a faculty meeting, is that not accurate?" Both Aureya and Chekov jumped slightly. For someone so freakishly tall, Commander Spock sure had a way of sneaking up on you.

"Ah, sorry Commander. This is Cadet Newman, Aureya, she was fery kind to… ahm, chelp me,… ahm, with something this morning." Chekov flushed with embarrassment.

Aureya noted that the innermost eighth of the Commander's left eyebrow gave a funny little quirk before he addressed Chekov again: "I will not pretend to misunderstand what sort of 'help' you are referring to, far be it from me to pass judgement on certain cultural prerogatives, however, this is in no way an adequate or acceptable excuse as to why you are both remiss in your duties, indeed I find it highly inappropriate that you consider such activities relevant to any conversation with a superior officer, Mr Chekov."

The younger man looked confused, his mouth opened a few times as if to say something, then he simply settled for looking completely perplexed. Aureya on the other hand had caught his meaning perfectly: "Commander, I believe you are under a…"

"Cadet," he turned sharply to face her "do not assume that your chemical makeup will in any shape or form benefit you in this particular class. I am well aware that qualifying for my course at all is a very unusual thing for someone of your particular shall we say, heritage and I hope you will prove adequately prepared for the challenge." Another little quirk told Aureya that he doubted she would be. "I mean no offence, Cadet, however, I find it unlikely that your test results have not been tainted by some personal efforts on your part. I would like you to be aware that such efforts will have no effect in my case, should you consider them."

"Sir, am I to understand that you just implied…"

"Cadet, have I not made it clear that you are expected to enter the theatre in advance of the commencement of class?"

Aureya was sorely tempted to let her temper get the better of her for a second time that morning. Words such as "racist, pointy eared prick" sprang to mind, along with "no self-respecting Orion would screw you even if you begged." but she relented, figuring that an outburst would simply undermine her own position and that the best way to stick it to the green blooded bigot was by proving him wrong. She mentally praised herself for her self-control, "Yes Sir, sorry, Sir.", then turned and hurried into the theatre.

"Interesting my ass! Well maybe on an autopsy table… Now there is a way to do something beneficial for both science and the universe at large. Arrrgh, I might just have to kill him myself, do us all a favour." Aureya flung her bag onto the bed and kicked her shoes off with such fervour that they travelled halfway across the room. Uhura made a slight hissing sound at this but let it slide. "Who are you talking about?"

"That pointy eared, hypocritical Vulcan son of a bitch we discussed. I take it back, I take it all back. I _hate_ his class, I _don't_ think genius excuses poor social skills and I most certainly _don't_ appreciate the cultural diversity of the faculty. Arrogant, presumptuous asshole.

Uhura looked taken aback. She had gotten used to the occasional bouts of inappropriate language from her roommate over the previous three weeks, but this was unparalleled. Aureya mostly cursed in a good-natured, almost indulgent sort of way; this, however, was something different altogether.

"What did Commander Spock do?"

"Uhura, trust me, if I tried to put it into words my head would explode."

"But you said he was your favourite instructor except for Commander Lennox. What on earth could he have said or done? I had Advanced Vulcan with him today and he was perfectly normal, well, his usual brisk, formal self, but still."

Aureya waved a dismissive hand in Uhura's direction. Busying herself instead with her computer. "Tell me about this maths exam he sets, I hear it's legendary."

"Not too sure, I'm in Linguistics, remember. Well I do know that beside the Kobayashi Maru his Advanced M and L exam is the second most impossible test Star Fleet has to offer. Kind of figures that he is in charge of both."

"But there is one person who passed it, right?"

"Yea, some Russian boy genius from Navigation and Strategy. Apparently Spock was not impressed that the kid was not even going to be a blue shirt."

"Chekov."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. … this is perfect, oh this is just sooooo perfect…. Two months, right?"

"What?"

"The exam is in two months, right?"

"Don't know, I think so, but Aureya, you've only been in the Academy for three weeks, I don't mean to tell you what you can and can't do, but people in their final year of Applied Mathematics try and fail that test on a regular basis. And are you sure you even want to work for the Science faculty? And then there are the private tutorials and …"

"I'll worry about that later. Anyway, that's not the point. … Two months, all right, I can so do this, and if I can't…. well, I have to at least try. I can be obsessive if I need to be." Aureya smiled brightly at her roommate at that.

"Well, that's great, I guess." Uhura looked noticeably worried. "So you won't be going to elective hand on hand tomorrow?"

"Oh no, I'm going. Still have to beat up Walton too. That'll probably take me more than two months but I'll get there eventually. I think the mental image of Commander Spock's face will come in really handy during hand to hand."

**Ok, so my first post was only a quick intro, which I rushed horribly. Was just too worried about chickening out of posting it so I just threw it out there. From now on things should be little bit more premeditated and a lot longer, I like long chapters, how about you? Am amazed that I got some reviews, even though the whole thing was barely a page, thank you so much guys. I hope to update again within a week, so please R&R to keep me motivated.**

**PS: Am really worried about getting some of the trivia wrong, any help is appreciated**.


	3. The Advanced M&L

**Well, here is Ch3/4****th**** post. Hope you like this. Would really, really appreciate some reviews (preferably nice ones, but right now I'd take anything) to know someone is reading this.**

**Oh, this markedly excludes you, miller330, thanks for the encouragement, and the Spock/Uhura scene is for you. ;)**

**I am telling myself the review thing was because the sight was acting up but that's probably just wishful thinking. So, please, let me know if anyone is out there.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing….hang on, actually I do, I own Aureya and I'm oddly fond of her, yay. Sadly that's it.**

Two days after the unfortunate incident involving the Orion first year cadet, Spock found Chekov waiting for him outside the lecture theatre in which he had just completed a rather detailed explanation of basic Romulan syntax.

"Sir, I vanted to speak to you about the other day, about Cadet Newman. … I don't understand vat Aureya, ah, Cadet Newman did wrong, or vat you thought she did, and she knows, I think, but she vill not tell me, and …"

"Mr Chekov, do not involve me in your personal affairs. I do not, in any shape or form, condone inappropriate behaviour between students and staff, and as far as Introductory Applied Mathematics and Logic are concerned, Cadet Newman is, by extension, your student. Understood, Cadet Chekov?" Chekov's somewhat gormless expression indicated that he did in fact _not_ understand. Highly gifted though the young man might be, Spock assumed that an unfortunate combination of raging human hormones and equally potent Orion pheromones had rendered his aide less perceptive than usual.

"But we only talked."

"Indeed." Spock only sounded marginally dubious, for had he not in fact witnessed nothing other than a mere conversation? Yet experience and a superior knowledge of cultural proclivities assured that he was easily able to deduce the true nature of situations which would prove somewhat more difficult do decipher for the less experienced.

"And she, ahm, Cadet Newman, vas really nice to me that morning, … and …." Spock raised an eyebrow at the almost petulant quality of Chekov's voice. He had to admit that he was a little confused as to the young man's intention. Why did he insist on reminding him of the morning in question, when neither his speech nor body language indicated pride or what humans referred to as "bragging"?

Leaving such questions for a later time, Spock decided to do the naïve young man a favour:

"Mr Chekov, I believe you are unaware of the topics of the staff meeting prior to our original conversation, are you not?"

Yes, Sirr, how vould I…"

"You should therefore consider the following information as a sign of my faith in your integrity. At 1243 hours Stardate 2256.312, a trading vessel was intercepted on its return course to Earth, all 15 crewmembers were captured and are still missing, the ship was commandeered and the freight lost. Do you know how this came about, cadet?"

"No, Sirr, I …."

"The first officer had 'rescued' a young Orion woman at their last port of call. She infiltrated the crew, procured the shield configurations, disabled their engines and, once the ship was completely compromised, hailed the Orion craft waiting behind a nearby dwarf planet.

As you can imagine, tensions are running high at this particular moment."

"Ah, Orion pirates, fery alarming, Sirr, but vat does that hav to do with Cadet Newman, Sirr?'

"I am not usually given to generalisations or simplifications, on the contrary, I do find, however, that sometimes it is wise to be guided by previous experiences, be they ones own or those of a reliable source." Spock stated this as if the point at hand could not be clearer. He did, however, emit the fact that Vulcans and Orions, simply due to their clashing value systems and moral codes, had a long history of mutual disdain. He believed that Chekov, being unduly biased at this stage, might not appreciate the finer subtleties of that particular argument. It was with no small amount of satisfaction that Spock reminded himself that he should not judge the unfortunate young man before him too harshly, he did neither possess the self-control nor the chemical immunity to Orion pheromones that he himself was fortunate enough to call his own.

And it was not the case that he was capable of disliking Orions, he merely found their negligence of restraint, their obsession with everything sensual, with any type of physical gratification, distasteful to the utmost degree. How one of their kind had managed to request admittance and successfully test into one of his classes was as yet an unsolved mystery. He suspected that there had been some administrative error, for while he could easily believe that a provincial examiner could be compromised by Cadet Newman's particular "charm", he doubted that the same could be said of Starfleet's standardised method of testing. He endeavoured, however, to soon remedy any….

"Sirr? I am sorry, do you need my assistance with any of your equipment or am I free to leav?"

How careless of him to have got so engrossed in his thoughts to forget to discharge Chekov.

"No, thank you Mr Chekov, you are dismissed. I expect you will heed my warning in future."

Chekov gave him a sceptical look, then a non-committal nod and hurried away.

By the end of his second year Advance Vulcan lecture, Spock had almost overcome his slight disappointment with Chekov. The class had progressed exactly according to plan, he had even allowed himself the challenge of an unannounced Q and A session and was quite pleased to have received some very educated queries. Cadet Uhura, true to form, had asked him a particularly well considered question about one of the more obscure case forms reserved for formal legal debates. He had been pleasantly surprised.

After the conclusion of the lecture - he had just packed the last piece of audio equipment - Spock was approached by the very same young cadet.

"I just wanted to thank you, Sir, this was most enlightening." Cadet Uhura gave him an eager smile before continuing:

"I read your article on Romulan verb conjugation and I have to tell you how informative I found it. I simply…."

"Forgive me, Cadet, would it be possible to talk while we make our way to my office? I have a tutorial there in twenty minutes."

"Certainly, Sir." Uhura gave him another eager smile as he led the way.

"Well, like I said, I just wanted to let you know that I thought the article was brilliant, …, I mean….the amount of research that must have gone into it…."

"On the contrary, Cadet, the article was published in an educational journal, it is solely intended for students of the Romulan language. I am pleased that you found it helpful, however, I am not a linguist and the research you mentioned certainly bears no comparison to that necessary for an academic essay." he noted her slightly perturbed expression, and quickly added: "I appreciate your commendation, thank you, Cadet." there was that smile again, gaining continually in its eagerness. Uhura absentmindedly played with her fingers, touching first her thumbs together, then her index fingers and so forth until all her fingertips were touching, then she pulled them apart and began anew. Spock wondered if she was aware of the cultural faux pas she was committing and could not help but regard the display as somewhat tasteless, but he concluded that she was in fact unaware of the crude nature of her actions and was, if his experience of human ticks served him correctly, nervous.

"Is there something you require assistance with' Cadet?"

"Well, Sir, I was wondering, … based on the clear and precise nature of your article, well,… and considering that your Vulcan lectures are so informative, well, mmm, and I've heard about those L&M tutorials you hold."

"I'm afraid Cadet, I am not following your argument."

"I was wondering if you would consider holding supplementary tutorials for some of Captain Taylor's Intermediate Romulan students, Sir?" Uhura practically flung this sentence at him, then took an audible breath.

"I am sorry Cadet, I teach Romulan exclusively to final year students. Furthermore, I find the implication that Captain Taylor's instructions are in any way insufficient somewhat problematic. Surely you are not asking me to support such an implication?" none of this was delivered with even a hint of resentment or outrage, yet the young woman seemed to flinch a little at his words.

"Cadet, I am flattered by your obvious compliment to me as an instructor, but as I pointed our previously, I am not a linguist." he had hoped that his words would reassure the cadet a little, inexplicably, however, she was now intently studying the toes of her boots and he discerned a certain darkening of her complexion.

"I am sorry, Sir. I meant no offence to Captain Taylor or to you."

"I am sure you didn't, Cadet. Again, I am sorry to have to decline your request. As a matter of fact, my current schedule would not allow for the classes you have suggested. I am afraid Advanced Mathematics and Non-Linear Logic is the only subject I am at liberty to offer private tutorials in at present." noting that his clarification had not had the desired effect, Spock decided that one on Captain Pike's lessons in human decorum would be applicable in this situation.

"Cadet Uhura, you are a very promising student, exceptional really, I have no doubt that your own efforts as well as Captain Taylor's instructions will be sufficient to assure you a continuation of your excellent academic record." She looked at him then with a somewhat surprised expression, but he noted that the eager smile was tentatively returning. He reminded himself that he would have to thank Captain Pike; what a peculiar concept "compliments" were. He could not comprehend the need to have one's positive attributes reported back to oneself, but then again, he had long since realised that some human peculiarities simply defied comprehension.

"Thank you, Sir."

"You are very welcome, Cadet. Now if you will excuse me, I have a tutorial to prepare." with this he left her outside his office door.

Spock was pleased to find Chekov his usual attentive self during lectures and tutorials, no traces of confusion or lack of focus were apparent. He had anticipated such signs on a daily basis, as Cadet Chekov had blatantly insisted on continuing to socially interact with Cadet Newman, despite numerous cautionary words on Spock's part. As yet, there had been no signs of anything amiss, however.

Leaving his office ahead of Chekov after their Tuesday appointment, Spock gave a small involuntary start.

"Sir." Newman was leaning against the wall opposite his door, but had the good grace to stand up straight and clasp her hands behind her back in a formal stance.

"Are you in need of assistance, Cadet?"

"No thank you, Sir. I am waiting for Cadet Chekov." at this she bent sideways and gave the young man behind him a bright smile and a cheerful wave; all highly inappropriate.

"Hey, Pavel. Thought I'd pick you up."

"Hello, Aureya." Chekov returned her big smile but appeared otherwise lucid.

Spock decided that his presence was not required and opted to quickly make his way to his next appointment, this was not for another hour, but he considered the wait preferable to any other option that presented itself.

"Cadet Chekov, Cadet Newman, I will see you both on Monday 1100 hours."

"Hav a pleasant veek-end, Commander."

"Thank you, and you Mr Chekov."

As he rounded the corner of the hallway towards the turbo lift, his acute hearing picked up the conversation behind him.

"I don't think Vulcans _do_ week-ends as such." Newman pointed out.

"Oh, I know, but I think the Commander likes to pretend."

"Pretend what? That he's a real person?"

"No, that he follows the same social norms, that he is compatible vith human behaviour. I think he vants us to think he is more approachable."

"Do you think it's working?" Newman sounded amused.

"I don't think so. I still find him a little scary." in Chekov's defence, he sounded mildly sympathetic.

"Yea, I thought as much." Newman gave a short laugh, then changed the subject.

"You know I can't thank you enough for helping me with this. I mean I really, really appreciate it."

"Vat are friends for, friend." Pavel laughed to himself.

"Most other cadets think I am just a boring child prodigy, I am fery glad that you, at least, seem to like me."

"Newton's teeth, Pavel, what did I tell you about stupid self-deprecating statements. Snap out of it already, you're a sweet kid, and sharp as a whip, who wouldn't want to be your friend? You just have to give people a chance to get over the fact that you're too young to drink." she giggled immaturely at her own little joke. "Maybe we should get you plastered regardless. Loosen you up a bit."

"Aureya, I don't think that…"

"Relax, I'm only joking. Starfleet conduct guidelines and bla bla bla, I know. Anyways, I'm here to buy you a cup of coffee and grill you about a particular formula I just can't get my head around."

"I find the second part unlikely, Aureya, given the sample test you gave me to correct two days ago."

"You've done it already? How did I do? How did I Doooo?"  
"Very vell, I am glad to say. It can be a little boring in there on my own. I never thought there vould be a possibility of taking this class with a friend, but now that there is, vell …. You better pass the test."

Newman gave an infuriating little squeal.

"Really? I did OK? Woooo-hooooo! ….Oh you betcha I'm going to pass that test, even if it's just to stick it to that green blooded…"

"Aureya, please, you promised."

"Sorry."

Spock had heard enough. He found the notion that Cadet Newman intended to take his Advanced M&L exam preposterous, however, he was well aware that there was no chance of her passing it. If Chekov chose to lie to the Orion, no doubt in an attempt to gain favour with her, then that was none of his concern. The exam was solely under his control and the young man had no way of compromising it. Cadet Newman could try all she wanted, Chekov was in no way able to procure answers or otherwise influence results.

As he heard footsteps behind him, Spock took the last few strides to the turbo lift and managed to embark and leave before the two cadets rounded the corner. A first year Orion Engineering student on the Science staff, indeed. He had nothing to worry about.

Over the following weeks Spock became increasingly concerned. Any question he posed during Introductory M&L was immediately answered by Cadet Newman, the other students did not even so much as attempt to partake. More disconcerting still, was the fact that she was invariably correct, even when Chekov had not taken part in the class preparations, Newman would have no difficulty with answering his questions. This state of events eventually led to his intentionally increasing the difficulty level of questions, and if the general student body had looked somewhat confused to begin with, most of his first years had now completely abandoned any attempt to follow his classes. He was mildly aware that he was behaving in an inappropriate manner, that his concern over Newman had taken on a personal level, he found it, nevertheless, difficult to desist.

It was after one particularly strenuous lecture - Spock was on his way to his quarters, perhaps meditation would restore some of his equilibrium - that he ran into Commander Lennox.

"Commander Spock, well I be damned, 'had no idea we were in the same complex, or are you visiting a friend?"

"No, Commander Lennox, my quarters are indeed in this building. But may I remind you that we met in the turbo lift not six months ago."

"Really?"

"I believe you were somewhat inebriated."

Lennox gave a big bellow of a laugh.

"Well that explains it then, can't remember half the people I meet when I'm pissed, no offence, mate."

Spock felt a wave of concern wash over him at Lennox's final word, but quickly deduced that he must have misconstrued the meaning, having no indication that Lennox was indeed interested in him in a sexual way. With that sense of concern Spock once again remembered Cadet Newman and an idea formed in his mind.

"May I ask your opinion of a particular cadet I believe is a student of both of us?"

"Sure, which one, I have to warn you, though, I can't keep track of all of them, might not know who you're talking about."

"Cadet Aureya Newman?"

Lennox gave another bark "Oh aye, the spunky little green lass, oh I know her all right." Lennox noted Spock's raised eyebrows and quickly added

"Ah now, don't give me that look, that is not what I meant. Sure, if I were a young man Newman would be just about the kind of girl I'd look at, but the kid is four years younger than my youngest, Maggie, sort of reminds me of her too, feisty little thing she is." Lennox smiled indulgently.

"Bright as a penny, foul mouthed and able to fix or build just about anything, just how I like my students. Oh, and she's great with the lads, you know, gender ratio still being somewhat uneven in Engineering, and us all being a bit of a rough bunch, that girl doesn't take any crap from anyone, fits right in, she does."

It appeared that this line of enquiry would not yield the sort of information that Spock had hoped for.

"She does not disrupt classes due to, let me put this delicately, her particular chemical qualities?"

"Say what now?"

"Pheromones, Commander Lennox, surely you are aware of the fact that Orion females produce a particularly potent chemical which…."

Lennox let loose such a volley of loud barks, that Spock felt the need to stop his explanation. When the older man (well not technically older but relatively speaking), had calmed down somewhat, Spock enquired:

"Forgive me, I fail to see in how far my statements were particularly amusing."

"You guys are immune, isn't that right?"

"To Orion pheromones? Yes, indeed, Vulcans are unaffected."

"So you wouldn't know if there were any at all, pheromone, I mean? … You wouldn't know if they were absent due to, say, Starfleet regulation, right?"

"Please clarify?"

"I've had a couple of Orion students over the years, apparently, unlike yourself. The females are required to have weekly injections of pheromone suppressants. As a matter of fact, I was joking with Newman about this, telling her how easy it would be for her to just have all the lads do her every bidding. Turns out her levels are really low, being half human and all, only needs to get the injection once a month. So, Commander Spock, whichever one of your students is making an ass of himself over that girl, is doing it entirely without chemical help." Lennox reached out as if to pat him on the shoulder but then thought better of it, letting the hand fall limply by his side.

"Don't worry, Spock, she's a good kid, just talk to her and ask her to explain to the poor sod in question, the girl has excellent social skills, she'll sort him out, tell him nicely to back off." At this Lennox seemed unable to restrain himself from giving him a sharp clap on the back, then turned and strode off in what Spock assumed was the direction of his quarters.

A new sensation flooded him then, one he found not at all agreeable. What was happening? Concern, consternation, disdain and now this; Newman had done this and now he could not even blame her for it. The new emotion was clenched in his stomach, unpleasantly calling attention to the fact that it was positively his least favourite so far: he felt foolish.

That evening he extended his meditation session to four hours.

Spock had set the date for Newman's exam at 0900 hours on a Saturday, leaving the next day free for it's correction. Approaching his office at 0849 that very same day he could hear something akin to soft wailing. Rounding the corner rather swiftly in case someone was in need of assistance, he was surprised to find Newman sitting cross-legged on the floor outside his office, PDA in her hand and small purple headphones in her ears. The wailing, was in fact issuing from her mouth, and one of her feet rapped a rhythm while the rest of her was slightly swaying with whatever infernal music he could dimly make out coming from the ear pieces. She had as yet not noticed him.

"It is rather superfluous to attempt to retain any information now, Cadet." he said rather loudly indicating her pad when she looked up.

"Blake, Sir, not revision." she almost shouted, then shook her head and removed the earphones. "Sorry, Sir."

"Blake, Cadet?"

"Yes, Sir. William Blake. Poetry calms me down." she scrambled to her feet rather ungracefully, then began to search for the device that still issued forth the rather dissonant twanging noise Spock now thought sounded vaguely familiar.

"And this," here he indicated her hands still holding the earphones "is something else you consider soothing?"

"Oh,… Andorian flabbjellah, purely instrumental, Cadet P'Grell gave this to me. It's … interesting. I haven' quite made up my mind yet." Newman gave him a warm smile before appearing to check herself and allowing her expression to morph into one of polite disinterest.

"If you are quite soothed enough I suggest we begin with the exam." Spock unlocked his office and led the way inside. Indicating a small mobile desk he had prepared the previous night, he made his way to his own desk and retrieved the examination pad from his bag. When he turned back around Newman was seated at the table, looking positively expectant.

"You have three hours, Cadet. You may ask questions during the first 30 minutes. And please let me know if you require to use any facilities, Captain Taylor has agreed to be on standby in her office and will accompany you." handing her the pad he pronounced: "You may begin."

The four questions Newman asked him indicated a clear understanding of the exam material and were well considered. Beyond that, he noted that she was unusually eager, almost excited as she worked, her pink tongue protruding slightly from her mouth, eyes slightly crinkled with what almost looked like amusement. At one point he in fact heard her giggle.

"Something is amusing you, Cadet?" he immediately reprimanded himself; he should not be talking to her halfway through the exam.

Newman grinned: "Yes sir, question 18b is quite backhanded of you, you're a clever bas…., I mean, nothing, Sir. Question 18b is interesting, Sir." Newman looked a little flustered and he decided not to press the matter. Within minutes she returned to her previous focused state and eventually handed him the pad with 30minutes to spare.

"Thank you, Cadet, you may expect the result within the week. Have a pleasant week-end." She once again smiled at him apparently involuntarily before cringing slightly.

"Thank you, Sir. The same to you."

He had no idea what possessed him but could not help himself, he gave her what he believed was an unconcerned look and remarked: "We Vulcans don't really _do_ week-ends." Newman's cheeks went bright pink, which was rather unexpected given her powdery green complexion, he would have expected grey, perhaps a pale brown.

"Ah,…. mm,…" Newman stuttered.

"That is all, you may leave, Cadet."

She did so promptly and rather hastily.

He had intended to take his time correcting the exam paper, leaving it at the office for Sunday morning, but he found that he had time and inclination enough to take it home with him that very evening and begin grading as soon as he arrived in his quarters. Newman had an oddly individualistic way of solving some of the equation; not always straight forward and frequently ignoring the shortest and most obvious solution to a problem, her calculations demonstrated an odd sense of abandon, as if she intentionally calculated in a roundabout way simply so the equation would last longer. There were some obvious mistakes, minor figures or carelessly copied sub-results making her lose valuable points, but there were other things.

Question 18b had indeed been a ruse on his part, it was impossible to solve. He considered it a valuable lesson to learn; not everything can, in fact, be solved and it is important to know when to accept this and move on. Newman had tried her hardest to solve the problem, resorting to formulas he could not help but consider creative under the circumstances, but had eventually filled out the answer box with one short sentence. "Number sequence incompatible with formula."

This was, in fact, correct. Not even Chekov had realised this.

As he totalled the points, then double-checked them, something he rarely did, something he generally had no need for, his calculations were always correct, a sense of foreboding flooded him.

Newman had passed the exam.

**Ok, so since I only had one answer to the long/short chapter question, this one was, as requested, long.**

**Any thoughts? Feelings? Opinions?**

**The button is right there, go on, ah, go on, go on, go on. (For everyone not Irish or from the UK, that's from Father Ted.)**


	4. The Lennox Challenge

**A/N: OK, so I'm a complete idiot. 'Tried to update my intro a little, 'cause I realised that the conversation Aureya and Uhura have at the end of it does not gel with what's to follow. Only I accidentally deleted it, didn't I, and then I panicked 'cause I could only add it again at the end of the first two chapters. So I came up with the bright idea of deleting everything and just putting it back up. Didn't realise that meant deleting the story, all your alerts and the reviews.**

**I should not be allowed to use a computer. I am sooooooooo sorry if this causes any hassle for anyone, just rest assured in the knowledge that my stupidity hurts me way more than it hurts you. **

**So: ****Black Mary Janes, twilightgirl123, miller330 (again, you rock), sarajm, Dean's Leather Jacket (x3, yay, and you actually put them back up, how great are you!), and Vulcanvamp, thank you so much, I really appreciate the fact that you reviewed, you totally made my day! And before I completely messed it up I did try to reply to all of you individually but fanfic was still doing some wonky crap. **

**So, this chapter is a bit of a monster, not sure about the med lab scene, boring?/too long? And I know some of you thought I did Chekov's speech well (you did, really, it was right there in the reviews, I swear.), but I'm not so sure, I think I accidentally made him German. Also, hope you don't think Aureya is an utter fool for what she does in this… shit happens.**

**OK, enough with the bla bla bla.**

**On with the srory.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek, or any of its characters.**

*******

"Now lads and lasses, today I want to talk to you about a little something called the Lennox Challenge." The entire theatre promptly erupted into cheers and whoops, some students even stood up to reach over to some of their classmates a few seats down or up and excitedly clasp hands or mock punch them, in other words, complete chaos ensued.

Commander Lennox gave one of his trademark laughs, then bellowed:

"SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP!"

Silence.

"Good little puppies. Now, if I may, let me outline what exactly the Lennox Challenge entails."

Someone to the front left of the theatre gave a derisive snort. Lennox continued unperturbed. "As I'm not just teaching you pups Introductory Engineering but also hold practical workshops in groups of 20 with all my students, and have done so for the last 38 years, I came up with this little idea – now what year was that again…?"

"**2362**!!!!" the entire class roared.

"Ah, yes, I remember it well." Lennox gave them all a teasing grin.

Aureya noticed that some students had clearly started to hyperventilate, in fact, she wasn't far off herself.

"Now, this year I hold 9 workshops for first years, which sort of makes sense since there are 178 of you. You may or may not know this" another grin "but the top ranking student of each workshop is permitted to take part in the challenge AND may select any 2 classmates and any _willing _– guys, try not to pull something as stupid as those fuckers last year – members of the student body of other departments as part of his or her team."

"Material costs will be supplied, I doubt I need to clarify that they are very limited. The speed and agility of your craft will depend entirely on your ingenuity. Never trust expensive gadgets over sweat, grease, and hard work."

"The racetrack this year will be set by two independent members of the faculty. Any questions? Did I leave anything out?"

There was a collective groan from the students and Lennox smacked his forehead theatrically.

"Oh my, did I forget to tell you the names of the 9 lucky sods? How _irritating_ of me."

"Roberts, Peter

Grubmann, Sasha

P'Grell, Shrem

Newman, Aureya

.

.

.

Aureya heard nothing after her name was called, Shrem, who was sitting right next to her, grabbed her and shook her violently, squealing incessantly, which, coming from a 6' 3'' blue dude was a little disturbing. Ah, what the heck, she grabbed on and squealed right back.

As if that had not been enough, Lennox took his nine _anointed_ to his local bar off campus right after class. They were all aware that this was against regulation, but knew equally that Starfleet was well informed of this little 'tradition', dutifully ignored it, and that as a result the Green Wolf had become a favourite hangout for two generations of Starfleet Engineering's finest.

"It's a little dirty." Shrem whispered as they followed Lennox to a large seating area next to a pool table." Aureya considered telling him to stop being such a girl but then figured that this would not do his Andorian pride or her sex in general any favours.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Green Wolf." Lennox announced proudly and plopped onto one of the slightly decrepit wooden chairs. The nine of them followed suit, P'Grell did so a little hesitantly.

"Bob, a round for me and my young friends, put it on the tab." Lennox waved leisurely at the bartender. Cadet Ambede, the only other woman to have made it into the nine, looked outraged. "Sir, it is four in the afternoon." Roberts snorted and mumbled: "Chicks." Oh great, now she had to drink that tosser under the table, not exactly what she'd had planned.

About an our and a half into their little social get-together Roberts fell asleep on the table, Aureya couldn't remember why she didn't like him, but knew there was some reason. This was when a rather clammy hand was placed firmly on her shoulder and someone breathed heavily in her right ear: "Hello there, what's a pretty thing like you doing with a bunch of grim looking fellows like these." Aureya noticed Ambede, who was on her third gin and tonic and clearly a lightweight, throw a scowl passed her shoulder. Turning around she was faced with a young man with dirty blond hair and piercing blue eyes who seemed to have some difficulty focusing his vision.

She heard an amused chuckle from across the table and caught Lennox throwing her a conspiratorial glace. She smiled right back, then turned to the pissed idiot behind her.

"Who? These guys? They're my harem…and my girlfriend" indicating Ambede and rectifying some of the stranger's ignorance. "Would you like to meet them, they are real friendly, if you know what I mean." She winked at him then "Can't always keep them amused, you know, sometimes they have to take care of each other and any strays…. Oh, except for Alec over there, he's _all_ _mine_." she pointed at a fakely smug looking Lennox, who was suggestively rubbing his substantial gut and giving her a flirtatious wink. At this point both P'Grell and Grubmann ruined it by bursting into loud spluttering laughter, taking the rest of the group with them. Roberts gave a loud snort and looked up bleary-eyed "What'd I miss?" More laughter. The blonde looked a little upset, clearly aware of the fact that he was being made fun of. Before he had a chance to say anything, however, another slightly older man, whom Aureya vaguely recognised from her monthly visits to the med lab, came up behind him and placed a firm hand on his arm. "Is he bothering you? I'm sorry, he gets a little amorous when drunk." He turned to the younger man and almost paternally scowled at him "Good God, Jim, pull yourself together." With this he led the slightly unstable younger man away.

"Meet last years winning pilot. Cadet James T. Kirk." Lennox pointed at the receding back. With that the laughter stopped and all eyes turned towards the gently swaying man just exiting the bar, they were all filled with something very much akin to greed.

***

Uhura was at her desk, headphones on and speaking in tongues, when Aureya returned to their room.

"Holy crap, Noyota, wait till I tell you..." Uhura had finally divulged her first name after Aureya had brought back two bottles of red wine following her rather traumatic experience after taking Spock's Advanced M&L.

"Hm?"

Aureya had hoped for a little more enthusiasm, but, well, she had enough for two, correction, she probably had enough for 20.

"Guess who got picked to compete in the Lennox Challenge this year? None other than yours fucking truly." It took all her self-control not to start bouncing on her bed.

"That's nice."

"By Faraday's bum crack, Noyota you actually don't know what the Lennox Challenge is, do you?"

"Sorry, hon, not really." Uhura gave an apologetic little shrug.

"You were here last year, right? Do you vaguely remember some big event that had all the Engineering cadets and half of every other faculty running around like a bunch of overly excitable toddlers on a sugar high?" Aureya's head was spinning and the rush of words left her a little out of breath, she should not have accepted that shot of scotch Lennox had bought her.

"Ahm?"

"Noyota, the Lennox Challenge is the biggest Engineering event of the academic year, about 20 teams from all three years get to build and race multi-traction gliders somewhere in the Nevada desert. Every single person who has built a winning glider has been certain of a top post on graduation." She should probably sit down, she felt a little dizzy. No. Water, water would be good.

"Are you Ok? I didn't want to say anything but you're slurring your words a little and you smell kind of funny, and…"

"Incoming call, Commander Spock." the computer announced.

Aureya, who was by now leaning against the fridge in the little kitchenette, holding on to a large cold bottle of water for dear life, noticed a flash of excitement pass over Uhura's face as she said: "Accept call."

Commander Spock's face appeared onscreen and he looked marginally surprised when he saw Uhura.

"What can I do for you, Commander?" Noyota positively beamed at him.

"Forgive me, Cadet Uhura, there clearly has been some mistake, I was under the impression that this was Cadet Newman's room."

"Oh,… yes, ahm… it is, ah, she is right over here."

Uhura motioned for Aureya to move within reach of the com-cam, and she did so a little reluctantly, not particularly being in the mood for one of Commander Spock's convoluted volleys of hidden insults.

"Sir? How can I be of service." She waved her hand in a theatrical semi-circle.

Spock quirked his lift eyebrow at this, twice, but recovered momentarily.

"Cadet Newman, may I speak to you in private for a moment." He gave a tentative glance at Uhura.

"Ah crap, listen, whatever Grubmann told you is a complete lie. I never thought that idiot would actually go through with this, I mean he only just came up with the whole thing an hour ago, I never thought he would really…"

"Cadet, what are you talking about?"

"Oh."

"I merely wanted to congratulate you on your successful completion of the exam and discuss any possible arrangements for your schedule, but I can clearly see that this is an inopportune moment."

"Wait, what? I passed?" Aureya took a small step forward but stumbled and almost fell, catching herself at the last minute.

A small flicker of recognition passed Spock's face.

"Cadet, are you _drunk_?"

"A little….but get back to the bit about me passing,… really? Oh that is just… today could not get any better. 'Have to call Pavel, fuck, do I have a lot to tell him. 'Should get him a present or something. 'Better call him straight away." finally remembering Spock's existence, Aureya smiled smugly at him and said: "Thank you, Sir. 'Bet you just about wet your pants with shock when you saw I passed. I'll contact you about those arrangements when I'm sober. Computer end call."

The Commander's mouth opened as if he wanted to say something but the next moment his image had already disappeared from the screen.

Uhura turned a horrified stare at her.

"Aureya, have you completely lost your mind?"

"What?"

***

It took two formal letters of apology from Aureya, and Commander Lennox to practically kneel and beg, all the while explaining that it was all his fault, and a long honoured school tradition, and really not a representation of Aureya's character at all, until Commander Spock abandoned the idea of having her court-marshalled, and begrudgingly allowed her to take up her position as his second student aide and proceed with her classes as planned.

***

Chekov had reacted like a bipolar puppy to all the groundbreaking news. There was the excited bouncing and delighted yelps at the news of Aureya having passed the L&M, then there was the cowering, slight rocking and concerned whimpering at the fact that she had insulted the Commander while heavily inebriated, and finally more bouncing when she told him about the Lennox Challenge and that she wanted him to be her first official team-mate.

"That's if I don't get kicked out after all…. What do they put in scotch anyways? Crazy mushrooms?"

"Vell, I think it vas fery irresponsible, and fery inappropriate of Commander Lennox to get you all drunk vhile strictly speaking on duty. He is famous for this sort of thoughtless and dangerous…."

"Hold it right there, mister. Now I have agreed not to call Commander Spock crude names in front of you, no more "prick", "wanker', "asshole", "bastard" or anything of the sort, even though, strictly speaking, he is all of the above." Aureya gave him a wicked grin, straightened up, clasped both hands behind her back rather stiffly, and allowed her expression to glide into one of bored superiority."

"In return, Mr Chekov, you will agree to refrain from levelling undue criticism at the unquestioningly brilliant Commander Lennox. Are we in agreement?" she raised one of her eyebrows as far as it would go.

Chekov burst out laughing.

"Aureya, that is really scary. How do you do that?"

She gave him another grin and a shrug.

"Observation, I suppose. Plus he's easy, all you have to do is pretend you are God's gift to the academic community and move as little as possible."

"No, I mean… you sounded just like him,…vell, still like you but…"

"Oh, I'm good with that kind of stuff. – Want to hear Taylor, or Pike, I do a mean Pike?"

By the time they reached the med lab they were both in stitches. Chekov had tried to imitate Commander Lennox and the odd mix of Scottish/Irish and Russian accents was more than she could handle. They both took a few steadying breaths out side the lab, before making their way towards the door.

"Vhy are ve here again?"

"For my hormone and pheromone suppressant injection."

Chekov looked first alarmed, then uncomfortable.

"Is that not a girl thing? Vhy am _I_ here."

Aureya had to laugh at the panicked tone of his voice.

"It's an excuse, really, my next injection isn't until Monday, I'm just going to tell them I can't make it then. We are looking for a particular young doctor."

"Again, Aureya,… Girl thing. Me. Here?"

"No, Edison's beard, Pavel, I am getting seriously worried about you being in charge of planning and strategy, will you let me finish. Said young doctor is best friends with a particular idiot _we_ need to talk to. Does the name James T. Kirk in connection with the Lennox Challenge ring any bells?"

"Oh."

"Yea, Oh."

"Cool."

"We'll see. So, strategy person, what do we do?"

"Vhat? Ve don't have a plan?"

"Not really." Aureya shrugged

"Sorry.' she added as they made their way to the reception desk.

As they approached the small waiting area outside the lab labelled "Anatomical Chemistry", Aureya noticed a young Orion woman already lounging in one of the small padded chairs. Her heart gave a strange little hop, she had never met any of the other Orion cadets in Starfleet, all she knew was that there were three males and two, well, counting herself two and a half females. At that moment the young woman looked up and gave her the brightest of smiles.

"Hi there."

"Hi." was all Aureya managed. Chekov just stared.

"What happened to you, bleach?"

"Sorry?" she was still not all the way back from the fairies.

"Oh don't be offended, I was only joking. I know who you are, 'heard about you. Aureya something, right?"

The young woman gave her another almost blinding smile: "I'm Gaila, second year Tech."

"Oh…mm, Aureya Newman, first year Engineering and Pavel Chekov, third year Navigation and Strat." Chekov was _still_ staring.

"Sorry about your friend, had my appointment three days ago but just couldn't make it, the little critters are getting a bit out of hand, they've been cooped up too long I think." Aureya took a closer look at Chekov and noticed the somewhat glazed expression his eyes had taken on. She had picked up a peculiar smell earlier, thought it was part of the reason her heart had acted up, but had not been able to place it. She gave Chekov a little shove and he seemed to recover a little; "Vhat?"

"Impressive." Aureya smiled at Gaila, "'Have never really seen them in action."

Gaila gave an indulgent little wave then stopped short,

"What do you mean you've never seen pheromones in action? Not even your own?"

"Well this kid in school through up all over my shoes when I was 11, it kept happening with some of the other boys, am… fortunately not always on the shoes, so I was sent off for testing and they confirmed that puberty had kicked in. I've been on suppressants ever since. 'No big deal."

Gaila was laughing now "Yea, that can happen with sexually immature males, it gets better after that." She turned serious "Well, it did for me. I'm sorry they had to keep you leashed."

"Leashed?"

""S what I call it, you know_, this_." she waved her hand around indicating their current surroundings.

"Actually I've written a song about it. When I know you better I'll sing it for you. It has injection rhyming with dejection _and_ erection, I'm quite proud of it really." Aureya, fascinated and a little overwhelmed, took a seat next to Gaila, Chekov remained where he was.

"Mmmm, I don't mean to be rude but I think your friend would be more comfortable outside, …until I get jabbed that is."

Aureya considered that Chekov would not be any use to their cause at the moment.

"Would you mind?"

Chekov surprised her by replying immediately: "Not really, I feel a little dizzy." With that he turned and slowly, measuring every step as if he were unsure of finding firm ground waiting for him, he made his way out passed the double doors they had come through earlier.

"Yup, he's young." Gaila commented with a smirk.

"So I'm not picking up any vibes between the two of you, what's up with that?"

"Friends." Aureya stated matter-of-factly.

"Lucky you. I don't get that, not that I've really tried all that hard. I always get sidetracked by _development_ _potential_." her coral eyebrows wriggled.

At this point the very same young doctor she was hoping to talk to opened the lab door.

"Gaila, we're ready for you, if you'd like to follow me."

She gave him a dazzling smile, then turned to Aureya before following him:

"Do you and your friend want to grab coffee after this? I promise he'll be back to normal once I get my jab."

"Absolutely."

She only had to wait for a few minutes before Gaila re-emerged and once again draped herself across one of the chairs as the young doctor led Aureya into the lab.

She figured artless abruptness was her best bet in the face of the lack of a cunning plan.

"So, you're friends with James Kirk?"

"Good God, not you too."

"Oh crap, how many got to you before me?"

"Four. Pale blond guy, the Andorian fellow, the other chick and the rude Welsh dude."

"Shit. And there's nothing I can say to get you to drag him to the Green Wolf for 2000 hours tonight?"

She winced a little as he injected her with the hypo-spray.

"Not really, sweetheart. You don't seem the type to bribe and I don't _seem_ the type to accept them." He laughed a little at his own joke.

"Ah come on, what would I have that you'd want. Besides, can you not just tell your idiot friend that I'll build him the damned best glider he's ever laid eyes on?"

"First point, probably true. Second point, you sure it's such a bright idea to call him my _idiot_ friend?"

"Fair enough."

As he lead her back out towards the waiting room Aureya cursed herself for being so impulsive; she should never have just rushed in here without a decent plan. What was she thinking? She had not even bothered to learn the man's name. Oh well, considering it was too late anyway she might as well be rude and ask now.

"I'm Aureya by the way."

"I know." He tapped his PDA at this.

"It's a pity you won't re-consider, I reckon I have a pretty decent team. I could really need a med hand on board too, Doctor…?"

"Leonard McCoy" Gaila announced as she made her way over to where Aureya was standing just outside the lab door. She wrapped her arms around Aureya's waist from behind and neatly placed her chin on the top of her head.

"So Leonard, you don't want to be on our team?" Aureya caught the slightly regretful look passing over McCoy's face before he seemed to remind himself of something important. "Technically, I never said that." He had a point there.

"So-o? Green Wolf 2000 hours?" Aureya asked hopefully.

"We'll see."

With this he disappeared back inside the lab.

"By the way, what team?' Gaila asked.

***

The first team meeting, unwisely held on a Friday evening in a bar, soon descended into something different. McCoy had in fact turned up and, as requested, he'd brought along Kirk, who, this time sober, proceeded straight away to wrap one arm around Aureya, the other around Gaila and announce:

"Today has got to be my lucky day."

Gaila smiled at him and said: "Oooooooo, pretty!" in a little girl voice, Aureya scowled a little and shoved his arm away.

"Gaila, behave, we need him in one piece and fully functional for the next four months."

"Oh I'll be _fully_ functional, don't you worry." Kirk gave her a dirty wink.

Aureya turned to McCoy

"Really? I mean, really? I vaguely remember you saying he got _a little_ amorous when drunk."

McCoy smiled sardonically and shrugged:

"A little when drunk, al lot when sober."

She couldn't help it, she just had to laugh at that. Kirk in return gave her a smile for once devoid of any lascivious undercurrents. He looked like a nice guy when he smiled genuinely.

Noticing her glance he held up both hands, palms forward

"So, I get it, you no touchy, fine, pity though, you're cute as a button." He'd earned a genuine smile back for that. She held out her hand for him to shake

"I'm Aureya, I hear you're not as dim as you pretend to be." He gave her a laugh for that.

"I'm Jim, I hear you're not as easy as you look." He shook her hand firmly. You had to hand it to him, the boy had balls.

Aureya had invited two of her first year Engineering classmates to join them: Andrew Greenberg was the size of and ox and about twice as strong but had real delicacy when it came to calibrating engines, Samia Ling was delicate and willowy, but, not unlike Aureya, had a mouth like a toilet and a way with large metal objects. Both of them were currently in deep conversation with Chekov.

Gaila meanwhile had taken a seat next to her and was listing the so far known members of opposing teams she had slept with. Aureya assumed this was a common tool in Orion battle tactics; she simply wished the other woman wouldn't insist on supplying so much graphic detail. To Aureya's surprise, the list included Shrem P'Grell – apparently he was a big boy, and she didn't just mean tall – well, that gave her the answer to a question she had never asked herself.

At some point Aureya got the distinct impression that Gaila now wanted her to reciprocate, however, she was in no way readdy to share the fact that – with the exceptions of a boy she had kissed in school when she was 13, and who had marched into class afterwards loudly announcing that she tasted neither like mint _nor_ pistachio, and a guy she had gotten to second base with when she was 18, but who had gone all the way in his numerous retellings – she had practically no experience of sexual intimacy. She liked men, thought just like them a lot of the time; she simply wished the whole romance thing wasn't so complicated and painful. She was sure she was a complete disgrace to the Orion race.

Fortunately Gaila let the whole thing slide as their second round of drinks arrived.

McCoy wandered off halfway through the evening and Aureya assumed that he had gone home. On her way back from the bathroom, however, she spotted him at a table in a far corner of the bar, sitting next to none other than Commander Lennox. Both men were hunched over a glass of amber liquid she remembered with an inward groan, and appeared to be growling at each other from time to time.

"Well don't you two make a lovely pair, and so cheerful."

She slipped into the only empty chair at their small table.

"Whatcha' talking about?"

"Women." They said in one voice, then gave an almost identical grim smile.

"How they just fuck off and take your heart –"

"- or your house and all your crap –" McCoy interrupted

"with them." Lennox finished.

"I thought you were widowed, Sir?"

"I am, she still fucked off though, didn't she? Left me here to rot. Gave me 28 of the best years of my life, four brilliant children, and then goes and bloody dies on me."

Lennox was clearly far from sober and judging from McCoy's slow deliberate nods and grumbled "True, true."s, she deduced that he was not far behind.

"Know why this place is special? And I mean this place?" Lennox was thumping the table noisily.

"'S where I met her. My Martha. 32 years ago, right here." another thump.

Aureya didn't know what to say to that. She remembered Uhura telling her that Lennox had been "presentable" before his wife had died. She wondered if he came to the Green Wolf every night, sat at the same table and drank away his anger and loneliness every day of the week.

"I'm sorry, Sir." it came out as nothing but a whisper.

***

Aureya felt distinctly uncomfortable as she waited for Commander Spock outside his office at 1548 hours the following Tuesday. Chekov rounded the corner and gave her a happy little wave.

"Hey there," she grinned "beat'ya to it."

"Ah, yes but I have the entry code." with this Chekov punched a long sequence of numbers into the lock.

"The Fibonacci Sequence? Really? Is he paranoid or something?'

"No, I just think it amuses him." Chekov smiled as the doors slid open.

"Come in." he grinned.

"The Commander is usually here by 1555, he has a lecture before this."

Aureya had been in Spock's office before, of course, for her M&L exam, but had been far too nervous to take in her surroundings. As expected, everything was meticulously neat and clean, it sort of reminded her of Uhura's part of their room. She was a little surprised by the small number of ornaments placed around the room, there even was an elaborate embroidered wall hanging next to the window. Feeling nosy, Aureya made her way to the desk and studied a small decorative figurine when her gaze fell upon a small, framed picture to her left. It showed a stern looking middle-aged Vulcan man and a delicate slightly older human woman by his side.

"Who's this?"

Aureya lifted the picture off the desk.

"The Commander's parents."

"I hate to break this to you, Pavel, but the woman in this picture is human."

"So?"

She hadn't known.

Who would have thought that, of all people, the Commander and herself had something in common.

The doors slid open and Commander Spock strode into his office without so much as a word of greeting.

Startled, Aureya almost dropped the picture. She placed it back on the desk and hurried to the small desk set up for her next to Chekov's.

"You find my personal belongings of interest, Cadet?"

"I'm sorry, Sir."

"You have been expressing that sentiment on numerous occasions recently, if I am not mistaken."

_Oh, here we go._

"Indeed, Sir."

"I believe most apologies can be avoided by simply not offending the other party; agreed, Cadet?"

_No, don't do it, don't you fucking dare and do it._

"Forgive me, Sir, but I really don't believe that you, of all people, are in a position to make that statement."

_Shit!_

"Please explain yourself, Cadet."

She still had the presence of mind to turn to Chekov and ask him to give Spock and herself a moment to resolve this discussion. The young man practically jumped out of his seat and was on his way out the door when the Commander stopped him:

"I don't believe I have dismissed you, Mr Chekov."

He hovered uncertainly before the older man relented:

"Very well, you may wait outside."

Chekov was gone in a flash.

"Cadet Newman, this is most unorthodox."

"Cadet Chekov told me that you asked him, just after he passed his M&L, why he had chosen to study Mathematics and Non-Linear Logic and why he decided to take the exam even though he had no intention of entering the Science department, would you please do me the same courtesy."

Spock rose both eyebrows at this but complied:

"Very well, Cadet Newman, why did you choose both these things?"

"I have always been interested in the subject, up until our first meeting face-to-face, your class was one of two of my favourites. As to why I chose to apply to take the M&L, well, that was in order to take revenge for the very same meeting."

"Revenge? On whom?"

"You, Sir. For being an ignorant, bigoted and racist prick."

"Cadet, may I remind you that you are speaking to a superior officer; and I may not be an expert on the human habit of intoxication, but I assume that the excuse of inebriation is currently not applicable." She thought he sounded almost sarcastic at this.

"No, Sir, I am indeed sober. However, I am also irate. You have done nothing but belittle and insult me since the first time we met. I admit that my behaviour towards you following my selection for the Lennox challenge was inappropriate, foolish and despicable, I make no excuses. Your behaviour to me has been, on the other hand, inexcusable from the very beginning.

How dare you to assume that I have performed sexual favours for Cadet Chekov merely because he was holding a conversation with me. How dare you talk to me as if I had not proven to you time and time again that my intellect is not that of an amoeba.

Sir, you do not have to like me, but I have, with one very unfortunate exception, earned the right to your respect."

_Shit! Shit! Shit! You are dead, you are dead, you are dead. They are so going to kick you out of Starfleet for this._

To Aureya's surprise, Spock looked almost pensive. He had not said a word, or tried to interrupt her for the entire duration of her rant.

_Oh God._

"You are correct, Cadet."

_Say what?_

"I have not treated you fairly and have made erroneous judgments based on my own prejudices. My conviction of being in the right only proves quite how deep-seated my ignorance is, I have no logical explanation for this, but I assure you I will work to correct my flawed perception and way of thinking.

I thank you for your candour, Cadet; you have my deepest apology, which I hope you will accept in due course.

Now, Ms Newman, would you be so kind as to retrieve Mr Chekov?"

_Newton's teeth, he was going to sneak into her room at night and kill her stone dead._

***

**A/N: Not sure if I have the right to ask for any reviews, seeing as I so carelessly went and lost the last set you guys got me. I'd still really like some though and I promise to take proper care of them this time.**


	5. Goodbye Saturday Morning

**A/N: Here's Chapter 4, at last, it took me longer to write this because I didn't have any time off. I find it much harder to write things in small 30-minute bursts rather than to have a whole day to write a chapter in one sitting, I think some scenes in this have suffered a little as a result. As this chapter is from Spock's POV it is more serious and not as funny as the last, I focused on giving you a bit more character background. Hope you like it.**

**With the whole drama over my "accident" before the last update, I promptly forgot to thank outabreath for the loan of "her" Gaila, the hacker ace and composer of dirty songs elements are hers. (Also, regarding "the accident": I would really appreciate any reviews, I am now officially 12 behind… gone, all gone, oh, waily, waily, waily. – of course this means an extra special thank you to those of you who did review after chapter 3.)**

**Warning: This chapter is all about food and sex (now, don't get excited, no-one is having sex - except Gaila, who is always, somewhere, with someone - they are just talking about it). Everything is implied, and as far as I'm aware there is nothing graphic in this. If you feel uncomfortable with anything in this chapter and think it isn't suited to be rated T, please let me know, I might just be that ignorant. **

*******

The look of outrage on her face, the way her eyes were blazing, her heavy breathing and the clearly accelerated heart rate which caused her cheeks to flush slightly, all indicated a certain lack of emotional control he should have perceived as unfortunate, pitiable even. He viewed them as none of the above, for it was her words, spoken only moments ago, to which he accorded the greater importance.

Since his conversation with Commander Lennox outside their respective quarters, it had repeatedly occurred to him that he may, indeed, have been remiss in his behaviour towards Cadet Newman. He was at a loss as to how such a thing had occurred, but it appeared he had established a pattern of behaviour he now found difficult to break. He had long since suspected that he had misjudged the nature of her relationship with Chekov, finding no evidence of intimate behaviour in the instances he had had an opportunity to observe their interactions. He had firmly intended to address the issue when he contacted her to congratulate her on her successful completion of his exam; however, things had taken an unexpected turn at that point.

He had of course been aware of Commander Lennox's reprimandable habit of fraternising with his students in a most inappropriate manner, he was even aware of the "traditions" he had single-handedly created - in itself a blatant misuse of the term - but on finding Cadet Newman drunk and disrespectful at a moment when he had prepared himself to offer a fresh start, all his previous misgivings and misconceptions had returned.

It had not occurred to him, until this moment, how blatantly obvious his behaviour had been, how much strain it had put on the cadet, leading not only to her current outburst, but presumably also to the previous one, under the influence of what Lennox had called "just a wee bit'a whiskey". She had spoken out of turn - for which she had since apologised repeatedly -, had reacted in an emotional manner, but would he have expected anything else from one of his _human_ students?

She had in fact done him the courtesy of addressing the issue directly, letting him know in no uncertain terms where exactly he had gone wrong. He could value such courage and candour.

The expression on her face had now become mixed with dread, as he voiced his carefully worded apology, however, it became one of undisguised incredulity.

He made a point of addressing her exactly as he would Chekov when he bade her to ask the young man back into the office. Chekov returned looking for all the world like a small frightened animal, throwing uneasy glances alternately at Newman and himself. He chose to ignore the young man's discomfort and decided to proceed and catch up on his now woefully delayed schedule for the two hours of their tutorial.

Cadet Newman repeatedly glanced at him with distinct unease, as if she expected him to withdraw his apology and instead start proceedings for strict disciplinary measures against her. The complete lack of trust in the sincerity of his statement caused some concern, he intended, however, to fully master his misguided ideas and prove to her that he was indeed able to behave appropriately.

As their session drew to a close and both of his students were in the process of packing up their belongings, Spock turned to the young woman:

"Ms Newman, if you have a few minutes, I believe we have as yet to discuss your schedule for tutorials."

Newman looked first a little alarmed then mildly confused.

"Tuesdays 1600 to 1800 hours and Fridays 1400 hours to 1600 hours, or so I believe, Sir. Assistance with first year Introductory M&L, and then attendance at your office hours Wednesdays from 1200 to 1300 hours, is that not correct, Sir?" she looked discernibly worried.

"Not quite, Cadet. I am at liberty to offer you a personal tutorial on Fridays, as I believe it would be beneficial to address some of the topics that will concern you in engineering, and likewise give Mr Chekov the opportunity to specialise equally. I have had to reorganise my schedule to accommodate this, but I believe it is in the best interest of you both." He made sure to let her know quite how much effort he had put into this, and assumed that the knowledge of his voluntarily offering up an extra two hours of his valuable time could not fail to appease her.

"Fridays 1600 hours to 1800 hours." He clarified, willing himself to give no outward sign of the satisfaction he felt.

Cadet Newman looked mildly horrified, so much for the assumed gratitude. Identifying one of the possible reasons for her expression, Spock quickly added:

"I am aware of the fact that you are going to be very much occupied with your involvement in the Lennox Challenge, but may I remind you that you chose to take the exam, and since you have involved Mr Chekov in your engineering efforts, your position in this is not unique." He noticed her mouth twitch at this. He surmised that she had taken his statement to imply that he disapproved of her close partnership with the young man, her distracting him from his proper scholarly duties, and in the light of recent events, found it prudent to hastily add:

"You are both exceptional students, I have no doubt you will have no problem with a slightly heavier work-load."

"Oh, amm no….I…., on my own, Sir?"

was all she could muster by a way of reply.

"I take it you are uncomfortable to be in close proximity with me -particularly without other students present - after our conversation today, is my assumption correct?"

"Yes Sir."

He had not expected her to be so frank.

"Ahhm…. vould you like me to vait outside again?"

"Thank you Mr Chekov, that would be much appreciated."

As before, Chekov was quick to make his exit, pausing only briefly to call out to Cadet Newman:

"Actually, Aureya, I'll see you in the mess hall….if that is allright?"

"Sure, Pavel, I'll see you there. Save me a seat." she gave the young man an encouraging smile, as if it had not been her who had looked terrified only moments ago.

"You do not believe my words to be sincere, Cadet.'

It was not a question, merely a statement of fact.

"Not entirely, Sir. But also… I don't understand. I was right in what I said to you, but the way I said it was disrespectful. And I, of all people, should know quite how important respect is.

And beyond that, Sir, I don't understand how you can simply state that you have been wrong and then act as if nothing had happened. Do you suddenly see Orions in a different light? Did my good qualities just pop into existence out of nowhere for you? I would very much like to understand what is going on in that head of yours."

Spock considered her question for a moment before giving her an answer.

"I have realised my mistake and am avoiding to repeat it, I was not aware that this is an unwelcome course of action. It may be otherwise for Orions, but for Vulcans it is unnecessary to contemplate such changes over an extended period of time. If there has been a flaw in perception, it is simply rectified."

Newman groaned:

"And that's another thing, "Vulcans" this and "Orions" that, has it ever occurred to you that I am just as much Orion as you are human, that as a matter of fact, we both share half of our genetic code as far as race is concerned? I am well aware that we both are avoiding to properly face one of our two halves, yet you insist on pointing mine out while hiding your own from the world and yourself.

So, you have issues with Orions, fine. Don't just pretend that this was some glitch of your brain you can just switch off. You don't like loud, messy, gluttonous, sex-crazed people, also fine." she gave him a rather stern look at this.

"I said this before, Sir, You don't have to like me, but I would appreciate it if you would give both of us the chance to form an educated opinion of each other. I am pretty sure I have my own set of prejudices to deal with where you are concerned. I don't know you and you don't know me, let's start with that, … agreed?

…. Oh, and one more thing: Stop trying to be nice to me, it freaks me out.

If _you_ can accept those conditions, _I _will formally accept you apology."

Spock felt his mouth open then fall shut again. Finally he extended his hand, deliberately ignoring his inner protest at offering up one of the most sensitive parts of his body:

"I believe humans shake hands in such situations?"

"Indeed they do." She gave him a bright smile he had seen her direct at other people but never him, and grasped his hand firmly. He did his best to suppress a slight shudder at the intensity of such intimate physical contact.

***

On Saturday morning three weeks after he had agreed to Cadet Newman's suggestion of "ongoing negotiations", Spock was roused from his meditation by the incessant ringing at his door. He did not usually receive visitors in his quarters, particularly not at 0800 hours in the morning. As the door slid open it revealed a rather energised looking Commander Lennox.

"Spock, my man, good morning. Can I come in?"

Not waiting for an answer, he squeezed his substantial bulk past Spock right into the living room and settled on the couch uninvited. Spock noticed, with considerable dread, that Lennox had brought along a rather large food container and two thermo cups.

"I brought you coffee and doughnuts." Yes, he had feared as much.

"I appreciate the effort, Commander, but I am afraid that very sweet or rich food does not agree with my pallet, I am also forbidden from touching food directly with my hands; furthermore, Vulcans generally abstain from the consumption of unnecessary stimulants such as coffee…or alcohol." he could not refrain from throwing a small reminder of his previous grievance into the conversation.

Lennox seemed not to have noticed, he let out one of his trademark roars of laughter and said: "No booze, no sugar, no grease, and no coffee, now if you tell me you guys don't shag either I'll have a pretty good idea of why you always look so pissed off."

Spock was not entirely sure how to react to such a comment.

"We generally find it unnecessary to attempt procreation on a regular basis, indeed."

A large lump of sugar-coated mush fell from Lennox's mouth right onto Spock's immaculate floor.

"Holy shit, Commander, I was only joking, I never thought… ahhh, crap, I'm sorry…. I…"

"You have nothing to apologise for, Commander, it seems I have made you uncomfortable, _I_ am sorry for that."

"When you say not on a regular basis, what does that mean?"

Spock had no desire to discuss the intimate details on Pon farr with Commander Lennox, or any other member of Starfleet for that matter, but he supposed a small, insubstantial detail would not matter:

"Once every seven years, Commander, even though it is not unheard of for Vulcans to break with this tradition and copulate regularly, …it is very much frowned upon."

"Oh you poor bastard." Lennox said thoughtfully, reaching for his fifth doughnut.

"Commander, somehow I doubt that you came to my quarters this early on a Saturday morning to discuss my diet and sexual practices. Is there anything you require my assistance with?"

Lennox looked a little guilty at this:

"Well, I'd hoped to soften you up with a little sugar and caffeine first, but clearly that was a daft plan. … Commander Walton broke his arm when volunteering for the elective hand to hand, he was my inspection buddy."

"Please clarify."

"I have this rule, see, to take an objective observer with me when making the rounds of the workshops. To make sure I don't unintentionally help one team more than another, I can get a bit carried away when it comes to multi-traction engines." Lennox gave him a wide grin at this, as if he should somehow understand the sentiment.

"You wish for me to accompany you while you inspect your students' progress?"

"Exactly!... never really liked that Walton fellow anyway, scares me a tad, has a few screws that need tightening. And you don't really have any plans for your next few Saturdays, do you? So I can just tell him that you volunteered and for him to take it easy when he comes back form the med lab."

"I do not appreciate for you to jump to such conclusions, Commander, I have a rather busy schedule for today, in fact, I need to prepare my lectures for next month and…"

"Oh by the 16 moons of Copernicus 12. I know a few things about you, Spock, and one of them is that you are not involved in any extra-curricular activities – apparently not in either sense of the word –, you don't counsel any of the clubs, you don't volunteer for the elective hand to hand, this will be good for you. And even if I say so myself, the Lennox Challenge is a rather prestigious little affair, it'll look good on your résumé."

"I mean no offence, Commander, but I am not entirely in accord with the concept of a cross-country glider race. I do not perceive any advantage gained form such pointlessly competitive activities. What exactly is the value of merely being faster than the next person?"

"It's a long-standing human tradition, Spock, racing goes back further than we can trace it, and it's fun."

"Anthropologically I can understand the concept, males trying to show off their prowess and stamina to any potential mates, the faster you run, the more likely you are to procreate. But I hardly think this situation is applicable here."

"Oh for the love of… listen, I'm asking you a wee favour here, I'm stuck with either you or Captain Taylor, and the women barely knows what day of the week it is at the best of times, never mind trying to get her to make an objective assessment of equal treatment. All you have to do is follow me around for a few Saturdays, make sure I don't build any of the damn things myself, and then be part of the judging panel at the end of this whole affair, is that really so hard?"

Spock relented, he supposed it would not be such a bad idea to interact with members of the other faculties, it could provide useful information for his ongoing enquiry into human peculiarities.

"Very well, Commander. Please give me 30 minutes to rearrange my schedule and to take some breakfast."

"Sure. Let me guess, you're the muesli and alfalfa sprouts type of guy?"

"Herbal tea and fruit, Commander."

"Close enough."

***

By 1100 hours Lennox and Spock had managed to visit eight of the nine wok-shops, having just emerged from Cadet Grubmann's hanger.

"Well, onwards!" Lennox announced, "I've saved the best for last."

"In my newly appointed role of objective observer, I believe it is my duty to point out that this statement implies favouritism."

"Oh come on, it just means that Newman's team is great fun. Have you met her wee gang? They're all bonkers, completely and utterly mad, the whole lot of them."

"I am very well acquainted with Cadet Chekov, as I am sure you are aware, it has, however, so far escaped my notice that he is suffering from any serious mental disorders."

Lennox merely rolled his eyes at this and let out an exaggerated sigh.

They were still some 500 meters away from Newman's hanger when they could clearly hear loud music accompanied by various voices in and off key, issuing from the direction in which they were heading. This became almost unbearably loud to his sensitive ears when they entered through the large metal double doors.

The inside of the work area was divided into two sections, to the left of them Chekov, an Orion female and a tall dark-haired human male were leaning, and apparently arguing, over what was clearly a multi-traction engine. In the right half of the space Newman and two blond humans, one male, the other female, were wielding large pieces of sheet metal, it was these three who were singing rather enthusiastically to the music blaring from somewhere behind them. None of the six had as yet noticed them, and as they made their way over to their right, Newman retrieved dark tinted goggles from the mass of brown curls messily piled on top if her head and reached for a photon welding iron.

Spock noticed that the clothes on her upper body could hardly offer enough protection from the task she was about to perform, for while she was wearing grey overalls, she had the upper half rolled down low around her hips and merely wore a grease-stained standard issue undershirt to protect her torso. Quite irrelevantly, he noticed the peculiar pattern of her freckles, the way they were thinly dotted across the top of her shoulders and clavicle, but were absent from her neck and upper chest.

"Sorry to interrupt your train of thought there, mate, but the point of the exercise is to actually talk to the students." Lennox seemed to have manifested close beside him as if out of thin air, the most peculiar smile playing on his lips.

"Indeed, Commander, please proceed."

"Ahoy there, anyone for doughnuts?" Lennox roared to make his voice carry across the din of the music. Spock had noticed him taking the leftover doughnuts with him this morning; he had so far, however, not offered any to his students. He refrained from repeating his earlier statement and merely raised both eyebrows.

The young blond male grabbed a small pad behind him and turned off the infernal noise. Newman, still engrossed in the song, finished the verse she was singing unperturbed, then shoved her goggles back up into her hair and gave them both a broad grin.

"Welcome to the madhouse, did you bring coffee too?"

Within the space of a mere minute all six members of Newman's team had congregated around the box of Lennox's now slightly stale offering, and Spock noticed with considerable discomfort that none of them bothered to clean their hands before grabbing a lump of greasy dough. Newman, apparently noticing some minute change in his expression, looked down at her engine grease and dust stained hands, then laughed through a mouth full of sweet goo.

"Holy shit, you must think we are all a bunch of savages, …. Sir" she added the polite address almost as an afterthought.

Before Spock could reply, Lennox gave a short bark and announced:

"Funny thing you should say that. Only this morning Commander Spock here commented on how primitive he thought racing was, that it's some type of caveman mating ritual, or was that metaphorical penis enhancement? Savages indeed."

Lennox's gut shook visibly at his for once silent laughter at his devious joke. The blond man on the far side of the metal shell raised both hands in the air

"Woooo, yea baby, yea!" then he quickly added: "Not that I need it, but…you know….cool."

Newman meanwhile studied her crotch theatrically, then looked Spock straight in the eyes and gave him a wicked grin:

"Don't think the second one is going to happen, Sir, at least I hope not."

"Commander Lennox, my words were in no way to that effect, as you are well aware, I would appreciate it if you did not misrepresent me to the cadets." He noticed that the slightest hint of exasperation had crept into his voice and hoped that no one else had detected it.

"Sir, he's only teasing you. You shouldn't let him get to you."

What was it about Newman that made her notice the wrong things, say the wrong things, act in ways that inevitably left him exposed or emotionally vulnerable? How was she even able to read him, when he prided himself on the fact that even Captain Pike, whom he had worked with closely for more than 7 years now, could not decipher his moods?

"I don't believe I do, Cadet, 'let him get to me' as you put it."

"Then why was the outer half of your left eyebrow arching upwards?" The young woman's expression was almost smug, she stood with her arms crossed over her chest, hips rolled to one side and eyed him carefully, tilting her head sideways and up.

"Aureya, stop making shit up, you couldn't piss a Vulcan off even if you tried. They don't have emotions, remember?" the blond man reached past her, rather too closely, Spock noticed, to take the last doughnut. Newman, who had been about to comment on his statement, seemed to forget all about this and slapped his hand away sharply.

"Jim, don't you dare, that one's for Bones, his shift ends in 20 minutes, he'll be here in 25."

"I don't believe I am familiar with all the members of your team, Ms Newman, pray who is the young man with such expert knowledge of anthropology?"

As Newman introduced not only the impertinent and clearly ignorant young man, but also the other unfamiliar cadets in the hanger, Spock noted the ease with which she addressed, then promptly sent them back to work, taking the opportunity to issue a few instructions. None of them appeared to take offence at this.

"I'm sorry we don't really have time to show you around properly, one of the dampening fields on the engine blew when we first tried it this morning and we only got back to the original schedule for today about half an hour ago. None of us have had any food since about six in the morning." She directed a bright smile towards Lennox "The little sugar rush is much appreciated, Sir."

"We won't keep you, we'll just poke around for a wee while and then bugger off again."

"Perfect. 'Find anything that's broken, by all means feel free to fix it."

'I don't think that would be the ethically correct…"

"I was joking, Sir."

Without paying him any further attention Newman returned to the task at hand and ignited the photon welding iron.

***

"Yes! Thank you! I was so hoping it would be Andorian chowder night, I love that stuff."

"You said the same thing yesterday when you found out they had roast chicken."

"Oooo, roast chicken, I love roast chicken."

"My point exactly."

"And anything with fish, or beef, or anything green, oh, and sweet stuff, absolutely anything sweet."

"Chocolate?"

"Oh, yes, please." Newman almost moaned the three short words.

"You know I think I've just figured something out about you." the young Orion woman, recently introduced to him as Cadet Gaila, sitting across the table from Cadet Newman and next to Cadet Uhura, looked marginally excited.

Spock had not intended to eavesdrop on the cadets' conversation, but Captain Pike was woefully late for their dinner appointment and the fragments of speech had floated to him unbidden.

"What?"

"The whole sex thing."

"Ok, now you've lost me."

"I belif ve vere talking about food." Chekov, positioned next to Newman, pointed out helpfully. "But since it's you, of course ve must change the subject and talk about sex."

"Oh, cool it baby brains, I am still talking about food. I mean I get the whole Aureya no sex thing, I think she substitutes food."

"Why thank you Gaila, speak up a bit there, I think the Tellarite couple at the other end of the mess hall didn't quite catch that. Fuck, Gaila, I knew I shouldn't have told you. This isn't something for you to fix. Chekov's a virgin too, fix him." Newman's voice came out in a sharp hiss, too low for human or Orion ears to hear at more than a few feet away.

"That's not fair, leaf me out of this, I am only sixteen." the unfortunate Chekov sounded somewhat hurt.

"I'm sorry, Pavel, I was out of line, it just slipped out." Newman sounded genuinely contrite.

"Gaila, try not to piss me off, just for once, you've been on my case ever since I told you, and I don't think I've ever regretted anything as much in my life."

"Sorry. … But it isn't natural, you know. I mean, I saw you hoovering up that entire family portion of sticky chicken wings last Saturday night and I sort of wondered… It all just clicked into place."

"So, I like food, big deal, it's not like my metabolism can't handle it. And it doesn't mean anything else."

"Yea, but has it ever occurred to you that all your very favourite foods are sort of messy, sticky, and invariably involve some kind of sauce?"

Cadet Uhura noisily set down her spoon and sighed: "Dear God Gaila, I'm trying to eat. Unlike all of you I'm rather particular about my diet, I'm a little squeamish when it comes to people discussing graphic details when I'm trying to focus on my dinner."

"What, the word "sauce" is graphic now?" Gaila asked, fake innocence in her voice.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Noyota, but you're not the only one, Gaila's sort of put me off my food too." Newman's voice indeed indicated a mixture of nausea and irritation.

"I think it vould be better if you stopped making Aureya your personal project, just leaf her alone about the whole sex thing, it is none of your, or our, business, anyway." Chekov earned himself a hug from Newman for this.

"Gaila, I promise you, this is just food. I don't have any urge to frantically copulate as we speak, ok, now can we leave it at that?"

"But you don't know what you're missing."

"No, but I know what I miss: you not bugging me about this."

Cadet Gaila gave an exasperated sigh but appeared to relent.

"Actually," Cadet Uhura remarked rather quietly "I really don't think you're missing _that_ much."

"Spock, my friend, sorry about this, just ran into General Archer, couldn't shake the man for a full half an hour… you look a little odd… what did I miss?"

***

"Sir, I don't understand how you can say that." Newman sounded almost furious. Chekov sported the by now familiar expression which, Spock assumed, if it were verbalised, would be something along the lines of "here they go again."

"You do not agree that simple Aristotelian logic is outmoded and unsuited for the production of a sound argument?"

"No, Sir, I agree with that, what I take issue with is the statement that it is completely irrelevant, primitive, and should be removed from the canon."

"I believe my first point necessitates my second."

"Absolutely not." Newman's hands were at her hips and her mouth formed a small scowl.

"I understand that Vulcan children might be equipped with minds complex enough to start with deviant and fuzzy logic straight away, but I, for one, hold a very sentimental attachment to my first lessons in logic. I spent hours trying to find a nonsensical conclusion with two sound premises; it was great fun."

"Sentimental attachment and fun are surely incompatible with academic pursuit. And the fact that even a child can prove the system wrong, clearly demonstrates how flawed this approach is."

"Flawed, yes, worthless by no means. And I'm not sure whether to correct you, or simply feel sorry for you, when you tell me that fun is incompatible with academia. Have you never had that sense of wonderment as a child, of intellectual adventure, the joy of figuring things out, of taking a journey in your own mind?"

"Ms Newman, what exactly is the point you are trying to make?"

"You really don't know, do you, Sir? Why do you study and teach mathematics and logic if you don't like them?"

"I, once again, would suggest that the word 'like' is completely irrelevant within the context of our discussion, Ms Newman."

"I'm very sorry to hear you say that, Sir." Newman's expression was undeniably one of pity. Spock felt the by now familiar twinge of irritation building in his stomach.

"Are you implying that I am in some way lacking in my intellectual faculties?"

"I'm not sure, Sir, maybe. I'm sorry all the same."

--

After Newman and Chekov had left his office, Spock spent a considerable amount of time evaluating his discussion with the young half Orion, only to be interrupted by the computer announcing:

"Incoming call, Amanda Grayson."

"Accept call. Hello, mother."

"Hello, Spock. It is so nice to see you. I believe you meant to call me earlier this week?"

"Indeed, mother, please forgive my negligence, I have been inordinately occupied."

"Oh? You sound as if that was something out of the ordinary?"

"I have been, I believe the human expression for this is, 'roped into' one of the more frivolous extra curricular activities the academy has to offer, quite against my will, may I add."

His mother gave a small laugh before placing a hand over her mouth to stop it: "I am sure you are making this sound a lot more interesting than it is. Tell me then, what is it?"

"Are you familiar with the Lennox Challenge?'

"Yes, I am…. But Spock, that's a race and, if I remember correctly, you object to such 'primitive demonstrations of prowess', as you would call them."

"Indeed." Spock made a point not to hide his slight irritation from his mother. She, however, refused to indulge him:

"Oh Spock, I'm glad, I think this will be good for you."

"Why does everybody insist on stating this, am I so clearly in need of improvement?" the small note of childish petulance in his own voice did not escape him.

"It's not that, it just seems that you are finally adapting. Our conversation a few weeks ago really showed me how much you are my son after all."

"Mother?"

"Do you remember that big rant you gave me about Starfleet's lack of discipline and morally questionable selection methods?"

Spock groaned inwardly.

"I haven't seen you that emotionally animated since you were 9."

"I presume the unfortunate young woman in question was expelled? …I wished you had listened to me, about lenience and the nature of student life…"

"Cadet Newman is currently my assistant student aide as well as one of the main participants in the Lennox Challenge." Spock noticed how he almost rushed the words in order to make them less uncomfortable.

"Oh? …Oh." his mother's answer was unusually ineloquent.

"As for our previous conversation; I consider it a moment of weakness and will strive not to repeat anything remotely similar. I apologise if you interpret this as a refudiation of your heritage, but I am sure that you are aware of my goals. Furthermore, I should not have burdened you with what is essentially a professional issue, I am sorry, mother."

"Of course, I understand, dear." Spock regretted the directness of his words as he noticed the well disguised, but none the less visible signs of hurt on his mother's face. In order to alleviate this he decided to change the subject to one she found invariably diverting:

"When I was a child, did I ever take noticeable pleasure in any of my scholarly activities?"

Amanda's face brightened noticeably.

"Oh yes, you did. When you were very small, a toddler really, you used to sit and giggle over your equations, … your father was not best pleased, he blamed me." She gave him another half-hidden laugh "I take full responsibility for that one."

"Why would I have been _giggling_?' he enunciated the word as if it were something filthy, a clear sense of unwanted recognition niggling at the back of his mind.

"I believe you were having… what's that word again?....fun."

***

**A/N: If you likey, please reviewy. Seriously, would really like to hear from you guys**.


	6. The Race

**A/N: Yay, chapter's finally done. OK, this is another all-written-in-small-bits one, so I'm not 100% sure I got everything right. Will be able to update more often in the next few weeks, so stay tuned.**

**A big THANK YOU, to everyone who reviewed and favourited my story, it really keeps me going.**

**Here's a little something I thought I should share with you:**

**Me: Cool, got some reviews commenting on the sexual tension, I'm soooo glad it shows.**

**The Boyfriend: What sexual tension?**

**Me: Between Spock and Aureya.**

**TB: Huh, I don't understand."**

**Me: What?**

**TB: He's with Uhura. (please note that he has read all of the chapters)**

**Me: Not in my story, he isn't.**

**TB: But he's with Uhura, I saw the movie, HE'S WITH UHURA.**

**Me: Oh boy. **

**('Had a hard time explaining the concept of fan-fiction to him.)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek or any of its characters. If I did I'd just sit there all day, poke them, and giggle.**

Oddly enough, while most of the finalists for the Lennox Challenge had become somewhat distant, mostly giving each other snake eyes across lecture theatres or mess hall tables, and acting like a bunch of cranky five-year-olds all around, Shrem P'Grell had become Aureya's closest friend amongst her fellow first years; and while they had always been friendly, the strain and incessant workload of the Challenge had brought them closer rather than torn them apart.

"Darwin's pinkie, Shrem, don't sit there." Aureya hissed at him as he took his usual seat centre front for Basic Starfleet Protocol and Prime Directive.

"What?" At his gormless expression Aureya gesticulated frantically at the back of a young human male right in front of them.

"Oh, shit."

"Hello my diversely coloured friends, how're the gliders coming? Mine's pretty much done, you know." The young man had noticed them and turned around.

"Roberts, what are you doing up front, aren't you meant to be taking a nap in the back row as usual?" Aureya tried not to sound too harsh; Roberts had a bad habit of getting nasty when you poked him too much, she had had plenty of practice at handling him over the previous weeks, and no matter what she did, Roberts had managed to insult and infuriate her every time. He and her volatile temper were a match made in hell.

"Oh, just heard that Pikey-boy is going to be on the panel, so I thought it'd be good for him to become acquainted with my face. – Hmmm, and while I'm at it, I thought I might as well come down here and freak the two of you out." he gave her a malevolent wink at this.

"Sooooooo? 'Heard you guys are all chummy these days, you sure that's wise?" Roberts drawled, completely ignoring the fact that Captain Pike had just entered the theatre. "Committing a bit of espionage… sabotage, maybe?"

"We're not you, Roberts, now shut up and turn around." Aureya whispered then gave P'Grell an exacerbated look. Roberts merely grinned smugly.

"Don't let him rise you like that, it's just what he wants." Shrem was barely audible, keeping a close eye on Pike. Aureya nodded, then made a strangling motion in Roberts' direction, Shrem just smiled and nodded back at her.

---

Things did not improve in Captain Taylor's Introduction to Pan-galactic Anthropology. She spent the first 3 minutes of the lecture ranting in Romulan until one of the students in the front row finally managed to get her attention and informed her that this was first year Anthropology. Taylor looked confused for a further 3 minutes, then cursed and shuffled out of the theatre. This did not disturb everyone nearly as much as it had the first time it had happened; this time everyone knew where she had gone and why.

It took her about 10 minutes to retrieve the correct lecture notes from her office; Roberts made good use of this. He left his seat, just above them this time, and slid into the one right next to Aureya's.

"Not you again." It was P'Grell's turn to lose his cool. "What now?"

"Oh, I was jus wondering if we should make this whole thing a bit more interesting? You've heard of last year's Winner's Lap, of course?"

Aureya snorted. "Not a chance, Roberts. They all got reprimanded, not even Lennox approves of the Winner's Lap. They just made that up last year."

"I thought you might say that, Ambede isn't in either…typical bird…everyone else is, though. Now I understand if you're precious about your bits and all, and being a gentleman I usually wouldn't ask, but you know, equality and that…"

"Don't." Shrem warned, too late.

"Fine, I'm in." she knew she would regret this the minute she said it, never mind the fact that Kirk and Chekov would probably scalp her, should they actually win.

"Shrem?" Roberts looked far too pleased with himself. "That's everyone, except for Ambede and you, and she's just chicken."

"Fine." P'Grell's answer came through gritted teeth.

"Well, as the official instigator, it is my duty to inform you of the exact nature of the Winner's Lap: The winning crew, on board crew that is, is required to streak – and here I mean butt naked – across the lawn outside the mess hall a exactly 1300 hours on a date to be appointed shortly. Any questions?"

"NO, now bug off. Taylor's back."

"You are not serious?" Chekov sounded as if she had just informed him that he had been volunteered for experimental multi-directional beaming.

"I'm sorry, Robert's a dick, he just got to me."

"I don't mind, had to do it last year." Kirk just gave a shrug.

"Vhat happened?"

"Not much; lots of dangly bits for about 20 seconds, some screaming, some laughing, and then _one_ massive lecture about the honour and respectability of Starfleet. That's about it."

"Oh God." Chekov looked about ready to start rocking backwards and forwards, or to throw up, Aureya wasn't sure which.

"Don't panic, we have to win first. Besides, naked for 20 seconds, how hard can that be?" she realised that she didn't sound anywhere near as convinced as she had intended.

"We'll worry about that when we get there. Now, can we get on with this?" Kirk sounded impatient, having spent the last 30 minutes going over every single setting on the console in front of him. If nothing else, he was meticulous when it came to his work. Chekov took his seat next to Kirk at the front of the glider's cockpit, while Aureya slipped into hers directly behind him.

"Jim, just pay special attention to the side and rear thrusters, I think we've not quite got them sorted yet."

---

While both test drives went off without a hitch, the qualifier proved to be a bit of a disaster. Overtaking Ambede on an incline, one of their rear thrusters emitted a deafening screech then stuttered into silence, effectively leaving them unbalanced and spinning in a tight circle. That much for what Lennox called 'Murphy's Law'.

When Kirk finally shut down the engine, all three were dizzy and slightly nauseous.

"Shit, I thought I'd fixed that." Aureya was singularly unimpressed "That's fucking last position for us."

"Vell, look on the bright side, probably no naked 20 seconds."

---

Aureya spent the next three nights in the hanger. Greenberg and Ling insisted on staying with her for the first two nights, but with another two days to go until the race, she dismissed them at 2000 hours on the third, to finish the final adjustments on her own. She was flat on her back underneath the carefully suspended glider when she heard someone politely clearing his throat.

Sliding out from beneath the exposed engine she gave a small start of surprise.

"Commander Spock, what are you doing here?"

"Commander Lennox requested that I check all the hangers for a final time."

"It's one in the morning, Sir."

"Indeed." his expression indicated that she was stating the obvious.

"I mean, why would Commander Lennox ask you to do such a thing at such an absurd hour."

"I don't require the same amount of sleep as humans – full humans – do. I informed the Commander of this fact some weeks ago."

"Oh." Aureya felt a little awkward, not entirely sure how to continue the conversation. In the end she settled for:

"Well, I'm still here, as you can see." then mentally kicked herself and added a silent "duh."

"Yes, I can see that." came the expected answer. "I believe you experienced some difficulties during your qualifying race, is that correct?"

"Rear thrusters, yes, Sir."

The Commander merely raised an eyebrow in question.

"The rear and side thrusters are a real problem on these gliders. You want them as powerful as you can get them for speed, but the light shell of a normal glider can't take too much strain so it's a fine balance. If the connection breaks, as it did with this baby here on Thursday, the whole power grid in the thrusters shuts down, it's a safety measure, but it means that if one of them goes, that's it."

To her surprise Spock looked intrigued rather than bored, she had been telling herself to shut up from about the halfway-point of her little speech, most people didn't really share her enthusiasm for tubes and wires, but the Commander appeared to be genuinely interested.

"Is it a mathematical equation of maximum thrust and minimum weight?"

"Absolutely, I've been recalculating it four times, but I think I finally have it. It's not pure maths, it doesn't exist in a perfect space, so finer adjustments are necessary."

"May I take a look?"  
"Of course, Sir."

Handing Commander Spock the pad with the blueprints, Aureya felt almost shy, as if she was exposing something deeply personal, intimate almost. His expression never changed as he studied the figures and drawings on the small pad, finally nodding and handing it back to her, noticeably, and a little hurtfully, avoiding her fingers as he did so.

"Very elegantly executed, Cadet Newman."

Aureya didn't know if it was the sleep-deprivation or the stress, but she burst into a small, almost hysterical fit of giggles. As the Commander raised one eyebrow in something akin to confusion, she pulled herself together and managed to say:

"I'm sorry, Sir, but do you realise that this is the first nice thing you've ever said to me? I mean excluding your apology or any praise directed at Cadet Chekov and me as a team."

"I was not aware of that." there was not even a hint of regret or apology in his voice, clearly he thought that there had been no necessity for 'niceness' on any previous occasion.

"Well, thank you, Sir. It couldn't have come at a better time."

"You are welcome." The Commander looked as if he were about to say something else, then appeared to think better of it.

"I believe I have completed my task here, Cadet Newman, so I will wish you a good night."

"Indeed, Sir. Thank you for the…ahm, pep talk?"

Spock appeared to linger briefly at the doors to the hanger before giving her a most efficient nod and disappearing into the night.

"Well, fuck me, that was kinda weird." Aureya mumbled as she crawled back beneath the glider.

"Yea, man!!! Yea!"

"Holy crap, Jim, stop shouting, we get it, you're excited." Aureya couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm. She was convinced that if it weren't for Kirk's boundless optimism, which was catching despite the circumstances, she would be somewhere with her head in a toilet bowl from sheer nerves.

They had all gotten up at four that morning to catch the first flyer into the middle of the Nevada desert, having deposited their gliders and gear with Starfleet transport the previous night. The rest of the Academy, or at least everyone who was intending to watch the race, would follow in the early afternoon, so for now there was only the 28 contestants with their teams and the panel of judges, consisting of Commander Lennox, Captain Pike, General Archer, and Commander Spock. They would be following the race from the vantage point of an observation platform, suspended above the planes of the Nevada desert. The general audience would have to make do with multiple screens broadcasting footage from atop the 16 markers, spread in a wide circle.

The team had found their glider and gear neatly set out for them on their arrival and were now busying themselves with the final tweaks and pokes. Bones had a proper task at last and kept irritating everyone by repeatedly checking their readings.

"Elevated respiration and heart-rates all around." he announced.

"Fuck, no? I wonder why." Aureya wriggled her eyebrows at him.

"I could give you a muscle relaxant, or an adrenalin suppressant?"

"Thanks, Bones, I think I need all the adrenaline I can get right now."

The young doctor looked a little disappointed, clearly not yet giving up on the idea of doing something useful to someone. Luckily Aureya was saved by Gaila:

"Just finished the final check on the programming and the operational system, can you give it the final OK?"

"Sure thing."

As Aureya made her way into the cockpit with Gaila, she noticed that the other woman looked a little fidgety.

"Nervous?"

"Huh?"

"You look like there's something on your mind."

"Oh, that. Well I was just wondering…."

"Yea?"

"If we win, can I run with you guys?"

"What?"

"You know, the Winner's Lap. I mean I know I'm not in the cockpit but I've worked really hard and…"

"Gaila, you _do_ realise that that is meant to be a humiliating sort of punishment, for 'stealing' victory from the other teams, right? It's not a reward."

"Culturally that's a little lost in translation for me, it just sounds like soooo much fun.... Please?"

"Newton's teeth, Gaila, … I …mmm, sure, I suppose. If we win, 'not likely starting in last position, but ok. 'Can't hurt not to be the only naked green chick." Gaila gave her the most radiant smile, then almost skipped to the console to show Aureya her final adjustments.

---

Aureya could taste the dust on the air as she squeezed into position behind Chekov; the cockpit had never seemed quite so tight before. Kirk still had that ridiculously excited glow about him. Chekov was hyperventilating.

"Vhat happens if we crash?" his voice was shaking noticeably.

"Depends, anything from looking stupid to dying. Why'd you ask?" Kirk gave him an evil grin.

"Just vondering." his reply was a mere squeak.

Aureya whacked Kirk across the back of his head.

"Stop scaring your navigator.'

"Stop hitting your pilot."

"Awww, so glad to hear you kids are getting along." Commander Lennox's voice boomed from the com unit. "Just thought I'd give you the heads up, starting signal is in 15 minutes. Get ready to take up position…amm, well, once everyone else has, of course."

"Thank you, Sir. … And we love each other, really." Aureya couldn't help but joke.

"Give that another 30 minutes, then see how you feel." Lennox countered.

"Right, number 28, I have you cleared to take position." A more official sounding voice from the communicator cut off the conversation.

"'On it." Kirk looked practically euphoric.

"I reckon we'll take our time at the start, what do you guys think?" his smile firmly planted on his face, he threw them both a mock questioning glance, while manoeuvring the glider into position behind the other 27.

"Number 1, set?'

"Set"

The com broadcasted the standard question, asked of, and answered by each pilot in turn.

"Number 2, set?"

.

.

.

Aureya could feel her stomach doing somersaults; the idea of putting her life into the hands of a careless, narcissistic adrenalin junkie with no concept of the word 'caution', had suddenly never seemed this stupid.

"Number 28, set?"

"Set." Kirk's loud voice almost startled her.

_Here we go. _

The shot rang out and seemed to slow time in its wake. Aureya had a distinct sense of weightlessness as Kirk practically lifted the glider sideways, the thin metal shell groaning in protest, squeezing passed the three contestants directly in front of them within the first 8 seconds of the race. Dust, swept off the desert floor by the rush of 28 engines permeated every vent of the glider, coating the instruments and occupants with a pale reddish film.

Chekov cursed loudly in Russian while frantically typing into his console, trying to compensate for their tilted position.

"You are completely mad!"

Kirk's laugh was almost manic, punctuated by short gasps for breath as the dust made breathing more difficult.

"Did I fail to mention that?!"

Aureya noticed a pleasant buzzing sensation spread through her body and realised that despite the slight sense of panic, her adrenaline was doing its job, she couldn't help but grin too.

"Fuck, Jim, if you can keep this up without getting us killed…I'll…shit, I don't know, you pick!" she called over the noise of the engine.

"Really?!" keeping his eyes firmly to the front, the tone of his voice lost to the roar, Aureya could still imagine the joking implication.

Trough Kirk's side of the cockpit window she could make out the first marker, a tall red metal spike glinting in the fierce desert sun; one down, fifteen more to go.

"Ahm, actually, no…. Drinks on me?"

"Done!"

Within the next 13 minutes Kirk, that fucking crazy son of a bitch, had managed to position them firmly at the rear of the top group. Only four gliders remained between them and the lead. With only three more markers to go, all three of them were by now coated in a thin layer of damp red earth, the climate control not being quite enough to keep the scorching heat at bay, making them sweat despite the cool air circulating from the vents. Aureya, breathing hard through the dirt and heat, didn't really care; they were actually in with a chance. That bastard Kirk had really gotten them here.

"Keppler's asshole Jim, I might have to rethink the whole "your pick" reward. Just don't get us killed!" she roared.

"Really?!'  
"No!" they had played that joke about four times by now, but it seemed to keep their nerves on a manageable keel. Keeping a close eye on the fuel levels and thruster grids on her console, Aureya allowed herself a brief glance passed Kirk and Chekov's heads.

"So, who's in front?!"

"Mainham's right ahead, then Pavier, then P'Grell, and in the lead, unfortunately, Roberts."

"Shit, well if we don't take him…. hang on,… Pavel, establish secure com with glider 5!"

"Open!"

"Shrem, I swear, if you don't overtake that bastard right now, you are no longer my friend!" She was rewarded with a small, high-pitched laugh, travelling over the engine noise and static.

"You come up here and try, he's a slimy bastard in more than one way, fucking slippery!"

"You just sit tight, we'll be right there!" Kirk announced, and true to his word, he pulled another one of his manoeuvres, slamming the brakes on the glider then flipping them upside down and practically somersaulting them over Mainham. Spot igniting the engine on landing, they were rewarded with jet another groan from the metal shell and a new cloud of red-brown powdery sand.

"Eya, I'm gonna need more juice!"

Aureya opened her safety harness and slid out of her seat and opened the access panel directly behind her. It was a tight squeeze and with all the dust swirling around them, she hoped she wouldn't clog up any of the grids.

"No circus stunts!" she warned him as she crouched before the fuel inductor, painfully aware of the lack of any restraints on her body, and keeping her balance by pressing one knee against the side of the cockpit.

"None needed!"

Both Kirk and Chekov let out a loud sympathetic hiss.

"What!?"

"One of Pavier's thrusters just vent, ve are now in third place!" Chekov's voice was a peculiar mixture of relief and dread, for, while they had move up a place without effort, any of them could be next when it came to the volatile nature of their engines.

Right on cue the com cut in:

"Crap guys, do you have to be so literal, I know I told you to come up here, but two minutes!?" Aureya was glad to detect the humour in P'Grell's statement, he was clearly trying to cut some of the tension, this was going to be tough.

"Well, someone has to stop that wanker Roberts, and if you won't…"

Most of her answer was swallowed by a loud grunt from the engine as she connected the final fuel line to the reserve and gave Kirk the ok. There was a noticeable pull backwards as he put the glider on full speed. This was it, nothing to do now but sit tight and hope for the best.

_Good God, just let the thrusters hold._

"Looks like our friends were already on the reserve!" Kirk announced.

Looking passed his head; Aureya noticed how quickly the gap between P'Grell and her was shrinking.

"Sorry, mate." She mumbled, as they pulled flush. Chekov was provoked into an uncharacteristic show of confidence and gave the crew in the neighbouring cockpit a little wave as they vanished behind them.

"Right, Roberts." her voice was determined but not loud enough to carry to the other two. Still crouching on the floor in front of the panel, she gave the thruster grids a quick once over, so far they were all holding.

"We're coming up on him now!" Kirk informed her. "He's already on the reserve as well, 'means we have more juice!"

"Excellent!"

It took them a mere minute to pull up to Roberts. Aureya took great pleasure in imagining the sneer on his face at the realisation. She had just straightened up to retake her seat when a loud screeching echoed through the glider.

"Fuck, no, not now!"

"It's not us." Chekov called out.

"What?'

"Shit, Eya, hold on to something!"

Before she had a chance to do as Kirk had told her, she was violently slammed against the glider's wall. She could hear a loud crack, somewhere in her body, and a few seconds later a sharp pain in her side told her that she had at least cracked a rib.

"'You all right?!!!!"

Crouching on all fours on the metal floor she gave Kirk a dismissive wave, then slouched back over the access panel, all the thruster grids were still on full power, it really hadn't been them.

"Roberts!" she concluded.

"Yea, he slammed right into us,his side thruster went on his far side, completely lost control, and we were in the way…. Am, Eya, I think we have a leak!"

"Shit!" One of the tubes from the reserve was clearly empty, the connection apparently broken below the panel. Disregarding the stabbing pain in her side, Aureya quickly readjusted the tubes, diverting fuel from the climate control.

"It's going to get really hot in here, sorry!" she noticed the strained quality of her own voice, battling the pain as it refused to be ignored.

"Are you guys ok!?" P'Grell's voice sounded genuinely concerned, this, however, did nothing to change the fact that he was closing in on them, fast. He was merely one glider's length behind them when the finishing line came into view. Even at this distance she could hear the rear of the crowds.

"Shit, Jim, do something.'

"'Nothing I can do. We're running on full power."

Aureya closed her eyes briefly, the pain making bright lights dance across the inside of her lids, sweat was already pouring down her back and her breathing became a little laboured, when she opened them again, they were crossing the line, P'Grell was right beside them.

It was a tie.

Aureya had in fact cracked _three_ ribs. Bones informed her of this fact almost gleefully, clearly overjoyed at the idea that his full abilities were required at last. This seemed to delight him almost more than being part of one of the two winning teams. While he was mending the fissures in her bones, Aureya could not help but reflect that if she had to share victory with anyone, it was just as well that it had turned out to be Shrem P'Grell.

"Would you like me to give you something for the pain? The discomfort will probably wear off in a few hours, and I wouldn't recommend the consumption of alcohol if I do give you something."

Catching his meaning, Aureya gave him a bright grin.

"No, thank you. I'll be fine without."

"Yea, I bet you will be. I've heard some mad stories about Commander Lennox's whiskey punch."

---

As it turned out, Bones was absolutely correct. After having been handed around like a small baby, hugged, kissed and congratulated by more people than she ever remembered meeting in her life, she was finally allowed to withdraw to a quieter corner of the Green Wolf, where she was nursing her second glass of Lennox's famous concoction. It already made her head buzz slightly and there most certainly was no trace left of any pain where there had been plenty only hours before. The fact that she had an extravagantly long shower only added to her general sense of tired contentment.

From the corner of her eye, Aureya noticed some frantic movement and as she turned towards it she realised that it was Chekov. Gaila was in fact attached to his face and he appeared to be making a desperate bid for freedom. His arms were flailing by his side and he clearly had no control over what was happening to his mouth.

"Fascinating. Is this some sort of Orion mating dance or are Cadet Chekov's movements purely random?" Aureya let out a small involuntary squeak then turned to where Commander Spock had seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

"Forgive me, I startled you."

"That's all right. Actually, I was wondering pretty much the same thing, Sir. I have no idea _what_ that is." as she indicated her two friends, Gaila finally detached from the by now severely flustered young man and wandered off towards the bar. Chekov merely blinked, then looked around as if to make some sense of his surrounding and what had just happened. As he spotted Aureya, relief flooded his face and he hastily made his way towards her.

"Oh God, Eya, you haf to help me, she says she vill make a man out of me." Aureya noticed with some concern that Kirk's nickname for her was spreading, but could not pay that too much attention as she burst into a rather undignified fit of laughter, little piggy grunts and all.

"Pavel, I'm sure she's just offering, just say: 'no, thank you'."

"Fascinating." the Commander stated again "You do not wish to mate with Cadet Gaila?" Chekov jumped slightly, it appeared that, in his daze, he had managed to overlook the 6'3" half Vulcan.

"Oh, Sir…. ahm, no, …call me old-fashioned but I vould like to haf romantic feelings for the first…..um….. No, Sir, I don't." Chekov's expression went from a brief blush of embarrassment to sudden realisation.

"Can I stay here vith you two? I think Gaila is a little afraid of the Commander."

"I beg your pardon?" both eyebrows raised, Aureya could imagine that Spock looked almost indignant. She had to suppress a second fit of giggles at Chekov's comment and subsequent mortification.

"Never mind, I think I vill look for Leonard, I haf something to ask him." With that he made his way towards the crowd, carefully scanning his surroundings, clearly keeping an eye out for any sudden green flashes of movement.

"I believe Mr Chekov shares Cadet Gaila's sentiment to some extent. I have to say I am a little concerned that he still finds me intimidating after almost two years of being my student."

"It's not that, Sir, Kirk slipped him some punch earlier. Poor guy drank two glasses before he realised it had alcohol in it. I don't know how that worked, the stuff tastes like it could strip paint. I think Chekov is just worried that you will reprimand him for consuming alcohol, Sir."

"He did not seem too badly affected … granted, he did first ignore me and then insult me, so perhaps I have underestimated his condition." the left corner of the Commander's mouth twitched almost imperceptibly.

"Galileo's wig, did you just make fun of me?"

There was that twitch again.

Aureya laughed, then shook her head in bafflement.

"Who knew? You should be careful though, Sir. If it gets out that you've got a sense of humour, you might have to watch out for Cadet Gaila after all."

"In that case I will have to take my chances."

Aureya smiled at him then, she could feel a strange weight lifting, the last vestiges of resentment towards him she had still clung to, appeared to dissolve into thin air.

"I wanted to congratulate you, Cadet Newman. I believe as far as these sort of things are concerned you have done well."

"You mean as far a tying a race is concerned?"

"Correct." He nodded, letting his gaze travel across the crowded bar.

"Thank you, Sir."

"And I wanted to tell you that I was wrong about your adverse effect on Mr Chekov."

"I'm sorry, Sir?"

"I believe I never told you this, but I was under the impression that you were a bad influence on such an impressionable young man, I find that, once again, I was mistaken."

"How so, Sir?... I don't mean to dig my own grave here, but from where I'm standing you have just witnessed Chekov tipsy and being violated by a close friend of mine."

She could have sworn she saw him smile at this.

"I have observed that it is not healthy for young humans to go through their formative years without certain experiences. I believe friendship would be regarded as one of the most important of these. I did not realise how isolated and withdrawn Mr Chekov was until I perceived the changes you have brought about in him."

Aureya felt her face grow hot, she was frantically thinking of something to say but failed miserably.

"Have I said something to upset you, Ms Newman?" Spock's voice indicated mild concern.

"No, Sir….not at all."

With all these people telling her what a brilliant job she had done on the glider, what a good little trooper she was, cracked ribs and all, how smart, how inventive she was, it was the Commander's compliment which flustered her. She had always been smart, always been talented with machines, but he had just called her a good friend.

Remembering her childhood and how precious friendship had been to her then, particularly when the other children had been too young to truly understand the concept of tolerance, she suddenly wondered if Commander Spock had spoken only of Chekov when he had mentioned isolation. Was being a half-human child on Vulcan as difficult as being a half-Orion child on Earth?

Aureya realised that she had been quiet for too long.

"Thank you, Sir. I don't think you can fully understand how much what you've just said means to me."

Looking minutely uncertain, the Commander merely nodded, then changed his mind and added:

"You are welcome."

"Am I interrupting something?"

Commander Lennox had managed to practically sneak up on them, concealed as he was by the noise and general chaos of the celebrations.

"Not at all, I was just congratulating Cadet Newman on a job well done."

"Exactly why I'm here, 'haven't had the chance yet." with this he pulled Aureya into a bear hug, clapping her firmly on the back.

She had been wrong, the pain had not gone entirely, and her side throbbed in protest at the rough affectionate gesture.

"Thank you, Sir." Her smile was only the tiniest bit strained.

She noticed Commander Spock's slightly concerned expression and gave him a reassuring grin before Lennox let her go.

"Where's your Russian boy toy? Aren't you two usually joined at the hip?"

Not giving him the satisfaction of rising to his bait and launching into a long-winded explanation, she simply waved her hand in the direction of the bar.

"Somewhere over there, hiding from Gaila, I suspect."

'Ahhh, youth, eh? Mind you, I reckon he should be safe enough, 'just saw her dry-humping your pilot over by the pool tables."

"Mmm, well….that makes sense, I suppose."

"Pity, really, though. I'm still trying to get people to dance. There used to be lots of dancing going on here in my day. I kind of figured the two of you would oblige me. Tried Bones, seeing as he told me he had ballroom classes as a child – told me when he was pissed, but still – the lad point blank refused to get out there on the floor."

Keeping very quiet about the fact that her father, too, had sent her off to ballet classes, presumably worried that the lack of more "feminine" activities in a single father household needed to be addressed, she simply gave Lennox a shrug.

"Might be the music, Sir. Classical 20th century folk is not exactly everyone's thing."

"Ah, now missy, all the music for this evening has been hand selected by yours truly, so be careful what you say." Lennox gave her a mock scowl, then could not suppress the small burst of laughter that wanted out.

"Get us a drink then, to make up for the insult, I'm sure some sod at the bar will cough up the money for a pretty girl like you." he winked at her.

"It would be my pleasure, Sir. I might even consider paying for it myself."

---

As she reached over the bar to pay for the shot of whiskey – straight up, no ice, no nonsense – a hand reached for hers and stopped her.

"I'll get that."

Roberts was leaning into her personal space, grinning quite literally from ear to ear.

"You haven't forgotten out little deal, have you? Everyone is quite expectant, you can imagine. 'Date is set: next Tuesday, 1300 hours, sharp."

"Oh, shit."

Actually, for about half a day there, she really had forgotten.

**OK guys, the plan is to actually skip the Winner's Lap and move straight onto the aftermath (i.e.: the giant bollocking they are all about to get)**

**I **_**have**_** had an idea for writing it – it would really have to be Kirk's POV, everyone else would just be far too mortified – but I think the whole "hee hee, naked people are funny" thing might just be a little too self-indulgently silly.**

**However, if you guys absolutely insist, I will write it and post it separately, probably rated M (Kirk has one hell of a dirty mind.)**

**So, either which way, let me know what you think. Review please!!!**


	7. The Delegation

**OK, just to let you all know, I did post that "deleted scene", it's called "The Winner's Lap", is rated M and told from Kirk's POV (which was great fun, 'cause, while he's smart, he's not a genius like my two lovelies here, and his mind is way dirty, hee hee). That's also why this chapter is a little shorter, I don't know if you've noticed but most of my chapters have 5 scenes. **

**Now, my last proper chapter got very few reviews, and I had no new story alerts set, so I assume it didn't work for you guys. (Yes, I am THAT needy.)**

**Noted exceptions being miller330, vulcanvamp, deansleatherjacket and YANIsweetness7, who are turning into my little support group. Guys, you are why I post these things. I mean, I'd be writing them just for myself, for fun, but you make me **_**share**_**. Thank you so so so much. **

**Anyways, here's Chapter 7, be warned there's a bit of a shocker in this.**

**Oh, and I'd really appreciate any opinions you might want to send my way, 'cause I interpret silence as "you no likey".**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek or any of its characters.**

"…and in front of the Ferengi delegation!!!"

Captain Pike's voice had reached a critical decibel, too loud to consider him as still in control of his emotions, but not quite loud enough to be termed as screaming.

He was leaning backwards against Spock's desk, throwing him a pleading look. Spock interpreted this to indicate that Pike had become too "worked up" – as he would term it – to continue reprimanding the offending cadets.

"It is a gross sign of ignorance, disregard and infantile thoughtlessness, that all of you felt the need to participate in such a primitive ritual of humiliation." Spock had not left his position behind his desk, facing the students while standing with his hands clasped behind his back.

"The fact that you chose the exact moment the Ferengi delegation left the mess hall, may as you claim, have been a coincidence; it is none the less inexcusable, particularly considering that you had last year's incident as precedent to indicate exactly how inappropriate your behaviour would be deemed by the Academy."

Here, he gave Cadet Kirk a particularly stern look. The young man did not appear to be concerned in the least, smiling as he did, as if he had just returned from a particularly pleasant walk in the park. Spock made a point of examining each cadet's expression in turn.

Cadets P'Grell and Augner – his pilot – were both deep in contemplation of their fingernails. Cadet Harman was staring off into the middle distance, and Cadet Chekov looked as if he were about to fall unconscious. Cadet Newman was torn between looking at him while he spoke, and avoiding his gaze in embarrassment. Cadet Gaila was smiling happily, as if she had just received some longed for gift.

"Cadet Gaila, as far as I am aware you were not part of Cadet Newman's on-board crew; would you care to elaborate as to why you were participating?"

"Moral support, Sir?"

The cadet's answer sounded more like a suggestion.

Not wanting to dignify this remark with an answer, Spock simply continued with the momentarily interrupted reprimand:

"In light of the fact that this incident can be seen as a repeated affront to the integrity of Starfleet, it has been decided that you will all be punished by a permanent note on your records, classing you as potentially disrespectful."

There was an audible gasp from the cadets and Spock tried very hard not to notice the satisfaction he felt as the smug grin vanished off Cadet Kirk's face.

"But, Sir, it was only a joke." P'Grell remarked meekly, the desperation clear in his voice.

"This is not a question of intent, Cadet, it is one of consequences. You cannot possibly tell me that you had the honour and reputation of Starfleet in mind when you ran across that square naked."

"Sir, surely it would be sufficient to punish Cadet P'Grell and myself alone, and perhaps Cadet Kirk, as a repeat offender – sorry Jim –, and Cadet Gaila for volunteering, but there is no need to implement the other three, they were given no choice in the matter, Sir." Newman had that well practiced look of defiance on her face, all traces of her former embarrassment gone. Spock had no doubt that she thought playing the hero was more important than her permanent military record. How predictably naïve and short-sighted of her.

"Am I to understand that you forced, drugged, or threatened Cadets Chekov, Augner, and Harman to remove their clothes and sprint across the lawn?"

"No, Sir, but…" she was exhibiting clear signs of distress, he, however, could not relent.

"In that case they are fully culpable for their actions." he gave a decisive nod and was about to dismiss the cadets from his office, when Pike found his voice again.  
"Commander Lennox has pleaded on your behalf, and there may yet be an option to turn the note into a temporary one, it will all depend on your behaviour."

Spock had vehemently opposed such lenience, not because he felt their crime was so heinous – as a Vulcan he did not share in the concepts of shame and embarrassment – but because the act had been insulting and disrespectful to a foreign delegation who took great offence at the sight of naked men. To allow a thoughtless act of stupidity to cloud interstellar politics was beyond reproachable.

'Very well, you may leave. … Cadets P'Grell, Newman, a brief word."

He noticed the look of trepidation that passed between the two young people. Making his voice as disapproving as he could muster, he quickly informed them:

"Due to your achievement in the field of engineering, it has been decided that you both shall accompany the delegation to the Interplanetary Education Symposium on Darius 12 next month. I firmly believe that this honour should have been revoked; I was, however, overruled. Congratulation." He noticed that both cadets were trying very hard not to smile in his presence.

"Cadet P'Grell, you are dismissed. Cadet Newman, a word in private." at this he gave a disapproving glance at the students still lingering at his office door and nodded to Pike, who duly ushered them outside and closed the door.

"Sir?" Spock noticed the slight waver in her voice, as if she was willing it not to betray her nerves.

"I am sorry to inform you that I have to withdraw my statement."

"Sir?' she merely repeated.

"I believe that you have done Cadet Chekov a gross injustice by involving him in this little game of inappropriately executed daring and misplaced masculinity. I can comprehend that your sex and diminutive statue would lead to a certain emotional need to assert yourself in the academic field of your choosing, I suggest, however, that you find other ways to do so in future. Implementing a young man with such potential, who has not set a foot wrong in his two and a half years at the Academy so far, is highly disagreeable. I also suggest that you are a bit more meticulous in the selection of your companions. Cadets Kirk and Gaila are clearly not the most advantageous company."

The expression on her face was one of sheer horror, he noticed that her lips were firmly pressed together and that there were small droplets of liquid forming in the corners of her eyes, her balled fists were shaking at the effort of not letting the tears fall.

"I understand, Sir." her voice broke slightly at the attempt for composure.

"But please take into account that some things are beyond logical comprehension. That sometimes you have to do things no matter how stupid you know them to be." she took a shaky breath and a sudden wave of heat and discomfort washed over him.

"I let my temper get the better of me, I involved Pavel, and for that I am sorry. I do not think that you have the right to judge my friends the way you do, you don't know them, but you are right in assuming that I have an inappropriate need to assert and prove myself, however, I would have thought that you, of all people, can at least sympathise with this, even if you don't understand it." Her voice had taken a few tumbles at her explanation, her breathing catching occasionally as she battled tears of anger and frustration.

"And how exactly is it you expect me to sympathise, Cadet Newman? Please clarify?"

There was a tight knot in his stomach and what felt like a lump forming in his throat, the obvious signs of her distress appeared to have a most unexpected effect on him.

"Have you never needed for people to see you as more than what they thought you were, to prove them wrong about what you were capable of?" she looked surprisingly young and vulnerable at that moment, it almost pained him to reply as he did:

"What ability exactly did you demonstrate by your insubordination? Have I missed some exhibition of prowess that was on display this afternoon?"

She looked at her feet and shook her head in silence, then mumbled very quietly:

"That is not what I meant."

"If there is nothing more you have to say in your defence, Cadet, you may leave."

Still avoiding his gaze, she moved towards the door, head bent and shoulders forward.

"Thank you for your honesty, Sir." With this she opened the door and left.

He sank into the chair at his desk, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. Newman had managed to dredge up yet another one of his almost forgotten emotions, remembering his mother's favourite vase in pieces on the floor in front of his much younger self, he was able to label it accurately: "guilt."

Quite against his usual adherence to consistency, Spock had permitted Cadet Chekov, who was his responsibility, to be part of the delegation after all. He had informed him of the change in his decision only two days ago, and the young man had been unbearably cheerful ever since.

Meeting outside the Science Block at 0700 hours Stardate 2257.118 to be taken to the USS Darwin, Spock noted, with considerable distaste, that, with the exception of Cadet Uhura who was representing the Linguistics department, every single one of the students chosen for the honour of partaking in the IEC, had run across campus naked a mere 3 weeks earlier. His own choice for the Science department, Cadet Chekov, who was not even a student of said department, looked childishly excited. Cadet Gaila, chosen, to his surprise, for the Technology Department, bore a somewhat similar expression and was happily bobbing her head in time to the screeching music emanating from a set of headphones. Cadets Newman and P'Grell were involved in a very animated discussion with Commander Lennox, which, for some inexplicable reason, required Newman to jump up and down laughing and P'Grell to wave his hands in the air. Turning to Captain Taylor, to comment on the propensity of the Engineering department to attract peculiar individuals, he noted that she had fallen asleep on her feet. So instead, he quietly contemplated the unfortunate composition of their little group.

After a brief and uneventful journey they arrived on Darius 12 not much worse for wear, well, Spock being the notable exception to this, since Cadets Gaila and Newman had decided to spend the 2 hours of the shuttle trip from the Darwin to the surface singing. As much as he could appreciate the fine quality of their voices and had no doubt as to the musicality of both women, the decibel in such a restricted space, had been entirely unacceptable to his acute hearing.

Massaging his still throbbing temples he made his way from his assigned quarters where he had just finished unpacking, down to the small lobby to meet with the rest of the delegation to discuss the schedule for the next two days, he noticed that he was the last to arrive. He had just taken the only remaining seat at the small table, when he heard a level voice behind him:

"Spock, of _Starfleet_ Academy, or am I mistaken." He noticed the odd intonation on "Starfleet" even before he had turned around fully.

"Sakan, it has been many years." Spock lifted his hand in the traditional greeting to his fellow Vulcan. "Live long and prosper."

The other man duly mirrored the gesture and greeting, then raised his eyebrow in question. "This is the Starfleet delegation?" indicating the seated instructors and cadets around Spock.

"Indeed."

"How…unusual." Despite the fact that there was no hint of derision in his voice as such, Spock was fully aware of the implication of the statement. Sakan was not done however:

"I believe you are unaware that I am here as one of the representatives of the Vulcan Science Academy?"

"Indeed, I was, until this moment." Clearly the other man was expecting some sign of acknowledgment, some profession of inferiority on Spock's part. He was expecting entirely too much.

"How peculiar to think that you could have been part of the same delegation. You must regret your decision not to join the academy, I can only imagine how troublesome emotional compulsions such as yours must be." Spock was rather fascinated that Sakan had not lost the need to provoke him; how many years had it been since he and his little pack of friends had made a sport out of trying to evoke Spock's emotions? Before he had a chance to formulate his own calm and collected response, Commander Lennox had left his seat and was pointing the stub of his missing right index finger at Sakan.

"What exactly are you saying, pointy-ears?" The irony of evoking this particular insult in the defence of another, anatomically almost identical individual, was not lost on Spock.

"I believe what the Vulcan gentleman is trying to insult Commander Spock, and us, in a rather blatant attempt of asserting his own superiority – such a nasty Vulcan habit -, no doubt rooted in a long standing belief in the exact opposite." Newman too had risen from her seat and was standing next to Lennox, her feet wide and her hands on her hips, giving the Vulcan _that_ look, shaking her head in mock outrage. She turned to Spock, gave him a wicked grin and asked: "What did you do to the poor guy to give him such a complex, Sir? Kick the crap out of him when you were little?" He knew that she spoke only in jest, that she had no way of knowing how close she had come to the truth, this did, however, take nothing away from the fact that, once again, Newman had managed to leave him standing there, feeling like a complete fool and trying very hard to regain his composure. To his immense satisfaction, she appeared to have had the same effect on Sakan, who, albeit imperceptible to the other observers, was taking a moment to collect himself.

"Well, I can clearly see you have found your place in the world. Peace and long life." Sakan threw the salute almost lazily before he strode away, heading for the exit of the accommodation building. Spock found it difficult to fully appreciate the intended insult within the other's last statement as he practically mumbled his answer at the retreating back: "Live long and prosper."

Spock was not enamoured of the concept of presenting the educational elite of the alpha quadrant as something very much akin to circus acts and travelling entertainers. His opinion, however, was insubstantial in the face of tradition, and the IEC was arranged like many events of its kinds, like a well-organised funfair. The varied representatives of higher education institutes from across the galaxy had taken possession of small booths and exhibition stands, and with the exception of a lecture theatre in which proper academic talks were given, the entire event resembled nothing more than a street market.

Both Newman's and P'Grell's gliders had accompanied them on the journey and were now propped up on small metal blocks as part of the Starfleet display. Chekov had set up a game of three dimensional chess and a projection of a game he had devised himself, in which each opponent had to out-manoeuvre the other with the calculation of prime numbers within a varied numeral context. Newman dubbed him "the incredible numbers boy", occasionally calling out to passers by to "come and see". Chekov did not seem to particularly appreciate her joke. She was showing no sign of still holding a grudge against Spock, but that big conspiratorial grin she had given him when admonishing Sakan, had been one of the very few smiles she had bestowed upon him since their conversation in his office. He thought it rather peculiar that he could so acutely notice the absence of something he had previously not even been aware of. He now observed her as she helped Cadet Gaila set up a simulation of a weapons programme she had created. The fact that he had not regarded Cadet Gaila as possibly being capable of such things had painfully reminded him of his first encounters with Newman. She was now happily smiling and joking with the other young woman, and he noticed a strange stabbing sensation in his lower abdomen. Slightly perturbed by this, he decided to assist Captain Taylor and Cadet Uhura with the set up of their audio equipment to refocus his thoughts.

---

After a relatively successful first day of what Commander Lennox had called "dance monkey, dance!", but he preferred to think of as the representation of Starfleet intellectualism, their little group was invited to take part in a multi-cultural banquet. The idea behind this was, no doubt, yet another attempt to bring different cultural, and culinary, experiences to the willing audience.

"By all the…, what the hell is this crap,… it's vile;… completely tasteless _and_ slimy." Cadet Newman had just spat a mouthful of her food into her serviette and was now hiding it in her lap.

"I believe you have just tasted Pok tar, a highly prized Vulcan delicacy, Ms Newman." he informed her helpfully. Cadet Gaila sniggered audibly, while both Chekov and P'Grell were trying to hide their grins.

"I'm sorry, Sir. I mean no offence, but….you actually eat this….voluntarily?"

"Vulcans appreciate more subtle flavours than most other cultures, I believe your interpretation of the food as – bland, was it? – is quite common."

"Subtle my a…. I mean, … ahm… what do you eat when you are on Earth, Sir?"

"Some Vulcan food is readily available, beyond that, a variety of raw vegetables and fruit, some vegetable broth, nothing out of the ordinary."

"Yea, but listen to this:" Commander Lennox looked almost too pleased with himself for having valuable information to add "no meat, no fat, no sugar, no caffeine, and no booze." Newman gave him the most infuriatingly sympathetic look, then almost mirrored Lennox's words from a few months previously:

"You poor bas…. That's unfortunate, Sir."

"I assure you, I am content with my diet, I find nothing amiss. The human propensity of placing such value on a mere bodily function, which produces sensory pleasure as a simple side effect, is something I do not envy in the slightest."

"You don't mind not liking food?" Newman clarified quite needlessly.

"Indeed, it is only food."

"That's like saying art is only art, or music is only music." Newman sounded almost accusing.

"I do not perceive the similarity, please clarify."

"Ahhh fuck, I knew it." Lennox groaned "I should have told them you only get to have sex once every seven years. 'Could have saved us all _that_ philosophical debate." The older man sat bolt upright and stared in surprise, clearly only just realising that he had been thinking out loud. Cadet Gaila hurled a mouthful of Andorian tubar root straight across the table; too preoccupied to even wipe her mouth she just stared at him and said:

"You what????!!!!" there was something akin to hysteria in her voice.

"Thank you Commander Lennox, I truly appreciate your fine judgment on what constitutes appropriate conversation topics."

Cadet P'Grell snorted and gave him a crooked grin:

"I didn't know you guys could _do_ sarcasm."

The entire conversation had become far too informal for his liking. He only now noticed Cadet Newman looking at him, both eyebrows raised, an expression of amused curiosity on her face. Quite unrelated, he deemed it necessary to clarify.

"I don't "get to" mate only every seven years, it is a cultural choice – rooted in some necessity – Commander, I believe I did mention this."

Cadet Uhura gave a contented little sigh, the meaning of which entirely escaped him.

"Ha ha, 'rooted in some necessity'" Cadet Gaila quipped "Well, I'd say. What do you guys do? Tear each other's clothed off in dire desperation?... wow imagine that was actually true. Man, I'd love to see that." Her train of thought had taken her far away from the table and uncomfortably close to the truth. What had happened to him being intimidating and unapproachable? He blamed Lennox, of course. A waiter carrying a tray of small glasses with a pungent smelling pale blue liquid stopped what was rapidly approaching torture. Captain Taylor, who had been indulging in one of her impromptu naps for the duration of the entire conversation gave a little snort, blinked and then exclaimed: "Oooooo, Kali-fal, just what I need."

The second day of the Symposium passed almost as devoid of problems as the first, a marked exception being the over eager attentions of a group of young Klingons towards Cadet Gaila's weapons programme. Security had to be called and the Klingons escorted away form their exhibit. Cadet Gaila, though shaken, still managed to joke:

"Ha, I finally find a man who wants me for my brain and he turns out to be violent and abusive." Her bravado was slightly undermined by her intake of a very unsteady breath. Cadet Newman simply wrapped her arms around the now mildly trembling cadet, who sank into the embrace gratefully. He had often noted Newman's simple approach to affection; she seemed entirely unconcerned about bestowing it, apparently guided by the idea that there could never possibly be enough of such a thing. Perhaps that was why he had noticed those absent smiles; she did not usually curb them.

---

The final day had arrived, and while Chekov's game and Gaila's programme were the highlight of their exhibit, there was a steady stream of people inspecting the gliders, and Spock noticed, that it was this particular crowd which made more noise than all the mathematics and technology enthusiasts combined. Lennox had the look of a proud father about him as he strode up and down clapping an affectionate hand on Newman and P'Grell whenever he passed them, at one point he in fact ruffled Newman's brown curls, making her laugh.

P'Grell was in the middle of explaining some particularly volatile engine part to a small group of children, waving his arms around the place and making ridiculous noises to the obvious delight of young one, when Spock noticed a familiar group of Klingons positioning themselves right behind him. One of them stepped deliberately into the path of P'Grell's arm, then shouted in outrage as the limb connected with his shoulder. Spock was on his way towards the group, when he noted that Captain Taylor had gotten there before him; for a woman of her advanced years she could be surprisingly sprightly. The young Klingon looked slightly taken aback as the petite grey-haired woman let lose a volley of Klingon insults. He had clearly intended to pick a fight with the biggest and bulkiest member of their group, thereby increasing his honour; things were, however, not going according to plan.

Spock noticed, with some concern, that the young man had no ridges on his forehead and his mouth was twitching nervously. Taking this as a bad sign, he made his way towards the debate. He was not alone in this, Lennox and Newman joined the group from the other side, just in time to witness the young Klingon shove Captain Taylor aside. She did not take kindly to being manhandled, and acted as was appropriate within cultural context, slapping the young man across the face. Spock considered what a formidable woman she must have been when she was still in active service. His line of thought, however, was interrupted as things deteriorated rather rapidly.

Clearly not expecting to be challenged by an old woman, the Klingon lost his composure and struck Taylor right across the face, sending her to the floor. All hell broke lose after this. Newman, as little in control of her temper as the young Klingon, made a lunge for the man, who was more than twice her size. Too late Spock noticed the glint of something metallic in the Klingon's hand as he brought his fist down straight across the side of Newman's face. Clasping her mouth, blood flowing through her fingers, she looked momentarily stunned. Spock, standing on the far side of the gathering, was about to act when Lennox, with the deafening roar of an infuriated mother bear, forcefully shoved Newman out of the way and threw himself at the Klingon.

Spock would go over the events of the following minute numerous times, trying to understand why he had acted the way he had. He had no logical explanation for his course of action. The logical thing would have been to attempt to intercept Lennox, to intervene in the fight before anything dreadful could have happened. All he remembered was Newman, being thrown in his direction, blood dripping from the fingers clasping her face. So he'd stepped forward to catch her. Looking down on her he had noticed a cut across the left side of her mouth, there was a noticeable wave of relief washing over him as he realised the cuts insubstantial size and shallowness. He had taken his eyes off Lennox for mere seconds, but as he looked back up to where the older man had last made for the Klingon, he met his astonished gaze. The look of surprise and wonderment on Lennox's face gave no indication of pain; he merely looked down at his chest in curious fascination. Right there, where the human heart would be, a Klingon qis was embedded all the way to the hilt. As Lennox crumpled to the floor, Newman uttered a shriek like a feral animal, and Spock had to use a considerable amount of strength to hold her to him. Out of the corner of his eye he could see security personnel trailing phasers on their little gathering.

**A/N: Review please.**

**Some nerdy notes: **

**The contact between Starfleet and Ferenginar would have been minimal at this time, which explains why they were all so jumpy about making a good impression. Ferengi women are always naked, so I just made the jump and gave them an issue with naked men.**

**I wanted to set the Symposium on Vulcan, but the journey would have been too long (there is a warp speed calculator online, imagine that!)**

**All the food is authentic and Kali-fal is a Romulan drink that basically makes you go "zing", which I thought was funny, given that Taylor is just a **_**tad**_** doddery.**

**The Klingon attacking Commander Lennox is suffering from an Augment virus, which is why he has no ridges and is even more unbalanced than a normal Klingon.**

**A qis is a small Klingon blade, a curved dagger of some description.**

**.**

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**Now, haven't I been a good little nerd? ;)**

**By the way, if anyone cares to know how my universe came to be AU, as in why there is an 'Aureya' in it, PM me, I actually know.**


	8. Memorial

**A/N: Right, Chapter 8. **

**I am sorry about Commander Lennox, really I am, I loved his character. Every time a chapter got a bit heavy I'd throw him in there and it was all good. The reason I killed him is simple, I needed a catalyst (you'll see).**

**Important note on music:**

"**Baby Got Back" by Sir Mix-a-Lot is the song that goes "I like big buts and I cannot lie…", you know the one.**

"**The Bad Touch" by the Bloodhound Gang is equally memorable for such classic lines as: "sweat baby, sweat", and "so put your hands down my pants and I bet you feel nuts", and of course " You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals, so let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel." **

**And while I think that either song is unlikely to survive a few hundred years, I still thought they fit the scene. ;p**

**By contrast, the other two songs I picked should, rightfully, last a very long time. I chose them with TOS and the older movies in mind, as they are from the same decades. I didn't name them, so I'll do so here, so you can check them out.**

**Kirk & Taylor's song: "Grandma's Hands" by Bill Withers, 1971**

**McCoy & Newman's song: "Real Good for Free" by Joni Mitchell, 1969**

**Thank you sooooooooooooooo!!! much to everyone who reviewed, I really appreciate it. Please keep it up, I've waited so long to share this chapter with you and I would be gutted if I don't get a good bit of feedback for it. (one of the scenes in this came to me while I was working on chapter 3, 'been dying to get to it ever since)**

**A note on booze:**

**There is a lot of alcohol in this chapter, which has a lot to do with my cultural background and the way funerals work. With the exception of Chekov (who would be allowed to drink in Europe) everyone is of drinking age even by American standards. **

**There are two contradicting canon references to Vulcans and alcohol, I went with the one that states that they **_**do**_** get drunk and choose not to drink because it effects their logical faculties, rendering them emotional. (bet you're all intrigued right about now)**

**To vulcanvamp: I went with Middleton after all. ;)**

**To YANIsweetness7: too late for the less tears thing, sorry, but I think the tears are worth it.**

**To everybody: Just remember: One step forward and two steps back.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek or any of its characters. I don't own any of the music or lyrics to the songs mentioned above and below. (but I borrow them regularly in the shower)**

_**Aureya**_

"Please, honey, just let Leonard take a look at it." Noyota's voice seemed to come from far away, muffled as it was by the blankets Aureya had pulled firmly over her head.

"No." she sounded like a stroppy child, and she knew it.

"Just leave me alone."

"Eya, sweetheart, if it's infected and untreated it will scar." Bones' voice had taken on that low soothing quality he only rarely used on his patients.

"Good, I want it to."

There was little toddler Aureya again, stamping her foot, crying.

Only she was all cried out, no more tears would come. She could hear Uhura and Bones whisper to each other as they retreated towards the kitchen. They had not given up yet, they were merely regrouping. She caught fragments of their conversation:

"Taylor said she did nothing wrong…" Noyota

"...have to stand up to those fuckers…" this one clearly Bones,

"…it's been four days… P'Grell's bad too, but at least he's up and about…" Noyota again,

Aureya simply turned her head away from their whispering. Captain Taylor had indeed been with her two days earlier, telling her what a brave young woman she was, how proud Commander Lennox would have been of her, and how grateful she herself was that she had defended her the way she had. And yes, she had assured Aureya that she had acted correctly as far as cultural anthropology was concerned. That had been no comfort whatsoever.

Both Chekov and Gaila had come for a few hours every day since the incident, keeping her company, lying on the bed next to her, hugging her. Neither had asked her to get up or pull herself together. She marvelled at just how much she could love her friends. Bones and Noyota, too, despite being royal pains in her ass, wanted nothing but the best for her, they just had a more practical, goal orientated approach.

"I don't know what else to do…" she now heard Uhura whisper, "… why won't she let you tend to that cut? …such a pretty face." There was so much concern in her voice; it pulled at Aureya's heart.

"It's only small, it might be Ok. It's so like her to do this archaic warrior shit, though. Taylor let me fix her broken jaw but wouldn't let me heal the bruising either. What is it with those two?"

Aureya sat up, flinging the blankets off her face.

"It makes the other pain bearable," she gave Bones a meek smile, which pulled rather sorely on the scabs on the left side of her mouth. " the one inside." she clarified.

"Also, it's going to be a memento, some things are just more important than vanity. … I'll let you properly disinfect it if you promise you won't seal it… let it scar."

The looks of relief on both their faces were worth the small feeling of defeat.

Bones tutted a little as he sat down on her bed and began to free the cut of scabs and pus:

"Fucking Klingons, trust them to have filthy knives." He was shaking his head when he added "It'll scar all right, I can make it so it's not raised, will you let me?"

"Fine." She hated the fact that there was some vanity left in her after all.

"It'll be a white line, just under two inches long, …you sure about this?"

Aureya nodded grimly, yes, she was sure.

---

The final decision to keep the scar somehow made her able to function again. When Gaila and Chekov came to visit that afternoon she was showered, properly dressed and in the process of sorting out her dress uniform for Lennox's memorial the following day.

"Oh, that's so much better." Gaila remarked, indicating not her general state but her mouth. Aureya smiled, it still hurt.

"I'll look like a proper Orion pirate,… grrrr, arrrgh." Somewhat at a loss as to the noises Orion pirates would make, she through in the human reference just for fun.

Chekov laughed, but Gaila looked a little confused.

"I'm so glad to see you smile again, Eya. Ve vere really vorried." For good measure Chekov gave her a hug. Gaila gave a delighted little sigh and squeezed in too. Dear lord, she had turned all her friends just as 'touchy feely' as herself.

"Also, I think the scar will suit you,…make you look less cutesy, more edgy."

"It's not an accessory, Gaila." Aureya shook her head, but could not help but give her friend a small grin.

"Grrrrrr arrrgh." Chekov commented, holding his right hand in a fist with his index finger extended into a hook and one eye squeezed shut. "edgy, arrrr." Gaila looked at him as if he had lost his mind. Aureya and Chekov just giggled like little children. Pushing away the small pang of guilt at laughing again so soon, Aureya pondered once more the miracle that was friends.

At the memorial Aureya was wedged between P'Grell and Chekov, Gaila was right in front of her, next to Kirk and Uhura, Bones was a few rows down with a bunch of med cadets. Ling, Greenberg, Harman and Augner were on P'Grell's far side. Every single one of the Engineering cadets had red-rimmed eyes; P'Grell was sniffling audibly.

The entire affaire was dignified and elegant. Aureya could not help but notice the odd contradiction this presented, given the character of the man they were remembering. Looking up towards the ranks of the faculty members, she noticed the intentional gap left between Captain Pike and Captain Taylor, less than two feet wide but almost throbbing with absence. Taylor's face had only gotten worse since the last time she had seen her, the bruises now taking on a purplish hue with yellow around the edges; the colours were highlighted by the shock of uncharacteristically untamed grey hair. In stark contrast, Commander Spock, who was standing right beside her, looked austere; black uniform and black hair immaculate, elegant posture almost too straight, and his pale face set in an expression of serene contemplation. Fury and aguish beside thoughtful remembrance; they looked like a painting.

Glancing around the hall, Aureya took note of the unusually large number of grown men and women in tears. Two generations of Starfleet Engineering personnel had passed through Lennox's hands, more than three decades worth of bawdy humour and sheer pigheaded determination to make them all the best damn engineers Starfleet had ever seen.

As speech followed speech, the sniffing in the audience built to a steady hum in the background until Captain Taylor took the stand. A hush went trough the room.

"I know that most of you are aware quite how long I've known Alexander. He was one of my first, and to this day one of my most incorrigible students…that boy was a handful, believe me." muted giggles went through the audience.

"Some of you will remember the time he and his little group of friends – and here I mean you Thomas and Eleanor –" Taylor indicated two senior officers to the front of the hall, "stole the statue of Zefram Cochrane from the Science block and set it up outside the mess hall, humping a blow up doll…that was some feat of engineering, making his metal bum go up and down like that." the entire hall broke into muffled laughter, intermittent sobs audible just above. Aureya's eyes, for some reason, found Commander Spock, and she noted the look of suppressed shock and outrage on his face. He clearly thought Captain Taylor's speech was inappropriate for such a formal occasion. Oh, but how appropriate for the man to be remembered.

"And then, of course, there was the time he re-jigged the com unit of the Vulcan delegation's shuttle to play that old classic "Baby Got Back" followed by "The Bad Touch" on take-off." There now were some audible snorts making their way around the hall. Taylor smiled and shook her head indulgently.

"But we all know that was not what made Commander Alexander Lennox so special. Silly pranks and inappropriate jokes aside, he was one of the most dedicated instructors in Starfleet history. Despite his many years of active service and teaching, he never lost that genuine enthusiasm for his vocation, nor his affection for his students." 'Low mumbles of affirmation from the crowd.

"You know, not having been blessed with children of my own, I have collected some 'substitutes' over the years. Alexander was the first of those." An audible break in her voice, followed by a shaky sigh, momentarily stopped the flow of her speech.

"…Just comes to show you, when you think they are passed all that nonsense, when you think there's nothing left to do but grow old one step ahead of them…." Tears were making their way down her cheeks. She shook her head, struggling for composure.

"But," she said this rather loudly, making her audience jump a little,

"he's not really gone, is he? Not only does he leave behind his four children, Alexander Jr., Robert, Andrew, and Margaret, but all of you as well. How many of you have become who they are because of his exuberance and complete faith in you? How many will carry his memory and the skills he's taught you with them on each and every mission? And how many of you have done stupid, inappropriate things on a dare or just for a laugh?" composed again at last, she gave a big smile.

"As long as there's idiots out there running across campus naked, I don't think any of us need to worry about Commander Alexander Lennox's memory."

Aureya had been wrong, she had plenty more tears to shed.

_**Spock**_

"Bit of a dump, isn't it?" Captain Pike remarked as he noticed Spock's raised eyebrows and for once interpreted them correctly. "'Brings back memories though. 'Had a girlfriend in Engineering when I was a cadet, she loved this place. 'Don't know what it is with engineers and dodgy bars."

"I believe that most individuals in Engineering are best left unanalysed. There is no way of knowing what bizarre anomalies one might discover otherwise."

Pike burst out laughing, then stopped abruptly and stared at him.

"By all the black holes in the universe, you just made a joke and it was actually funny, what's going on?"

Spock merely gave him a mildly quizzical look and raised one eyebrow. He did, however, inform Captain Pike:

"I have been here on one previous occasion, if you remember. The celebrations of the Lennox Challenge this year." Pike's amused smile vanished at the mention of their dead friend's name.

"Yea, I remember that." his expression was one of sad but fond remembrance. "Good times." he added.

They both stood at the bar in silent contemplation for a few minutes, Spock reflecting on the fact that on this occasion the level of noise was far less overwhelming, even though the number of guests was marginally larger and the music identical, when Pike let out a strangle snort. Following the other man's gaze, he noticed that Cadet Kirk and Captain Taylor had taken the dance-floor. They presented a rather odd view as the much younger man twirled and dipped the small elderly woman to the beat of an oddly hypnotic song. Then again, he supposed it was somehow fitting as the lyrics repeatedly mentioned the words "grandma's hands". Taylor, however, nullified the idea of a close parental connection when she slapped the young man on his posterior on a line in the song that went something like "…what'd you wanna spank him for…". Pike roared with laughter, then smiled sadly as both Kirk and Taylor bowed deeply towards the back of the bar. Noting a small table left unoccupied there, despite the otherwise crowded room, Spock was about to inquire as to the nature of this peculiar ritual, when Cadets McCoy and Newman strode onto the floor, taking Kirk and Taylor's position. A marked hush descended over the assembled guests as the two began to dance to a slow melancholic song with piano accompaniment. While Kirk and Taylor had made up for their lack in technique with sheer enthusiasm, McCoy and Newman's technical perfection was eclipsed only by their emotional intensity. The young doctor had Newman curled tightly into his arms, only letting her go when he spun her into elaborate combinations of steps, on one occasion, the words in the song had reached a peak on "or if you're a friend to me" he, in fact, lifted her off her feet and completed two rotations before setting her back down again, her falling back into step as if she had never left the floor. He noticed that both kept their eyes firmly on the table at the back, Newman crying silently without missing a step. Her cheek was pressed against McCoy's chest and he held her almost protectively, tenderly. Spock once again noticed the strange stabbing sensation just below his ribcage.

When the dancers in turn bowed deeply to the unoccupied space, and were replaced by yet another pair, Spock leaned towards Pike:

"I am a little at a loss as to what this demonstration signifies?"

Pike shook his head thoughtfully, then indicated the table:

"They are dancing for _them_."

"Forgive me, I do not find that explanation helpful in the least."

"Lennox and his wife." Pike stated matter of factly. Spock merely raised both eyebrows and inclined his head, indicating that he was still not following the direction of the other's thoughts.

"Remember how Lennox got upset because no one would dance last time? He used to come here when he was young, to dance. Back there is where…." Pike seemed to change his mind shaking his head again "never mind, you wouldn't understand."

"That is a rather prejudiced judgment on your part, if you are not willing to elaborate, please don't imply that it is due to some lack on my part."

"I apologise, Spock," Pike sounded genuine "it's just that the complexities of human superstition and emotionality might sound childish to you, and I'm not in the mood to defend my race right now. I'll explain later, when I'm drunk."

"You intend to get drunk?"

Pike let out a derisive snort, then clarified:  
"Lennox was Scottish with an Irish mother, it would be an insult to the man's memory not to get drunk."

"I don't see how…" Pike interrupted him by placing a hand firmly on his shoulder.

"Not now, Spock, later."

As the evening wore on and some of the guests began to leave, Spock was finally given an explanation for the dancing and the empty table. Pike had been correct, the idea of Lennox and his wife somehow observing the proceedings from that empty corner of the bar, was indeed preposterous. Spock, however, had the good grace to keep that opinion to himself as Pike slurred through the final words of his explanation:  
"So you see, it's like leaving the seats there for them, just in case…not that anyone really thinks…but you know…'s nice, don't you think?"

"Indeed."

"You gonna have a drink with me now?...'S just plain rude at this stage."

"I intend no offence, Captain, but Vulcan's don't consume alcohol, it inhibits our ability to think logically."

Pike laughed at his answer:

"That's the point, Spock. And damnit how often to I have to tell you, call me Christopher."

Right on cue, Taylor's voice cut through their conversation:

"Christopher, come over here. …and bring Commander Spock." he noted that her voice, too, was slightly on the wavering side.

Pike unceremoniously grabbed his arm and dragged him towards a large table close by the one left empty all night. As they made their way across the room he noticed quite how deserted the bar had become, they were among the last occupants.

Seated around the table was a group of about ten, well twelve to be precise. He was familiar with General Archer, Cadets McCoy, Gaila, Kirk, Chekov, P'Grell, and Newman, and with Captain Taylor of course. There also were a young man and woman who had earlier been introduced to him as Alec and Maggie, two of Lennox's children. Besides them there was a middle-aged man, whom he recognised as the owner of the establishment, having observed him pouring drinks all evening without charging for any of them. Taylor waved them both over and announced proudly:

"Bob here has a little treat for us." pointing at a their host, who gave Taylor a broad smile and placed two large bottles containing a dark amber liquid on the table.

"Middleton, 125 years old…and like everything else tonight, on the house." Nodding at Kirk who was sitting closest to the bar, he motioned towards a large tray with small glasses set out there. Understanding his meaning, the young man stood up and retrieved the tray. Pike smiled approvingly and took a seat next to Captain Taylor and looked at Spock expectantly.

"I don't think that the memory of a man who clearly suffered from an addiction to alcohol is best served by…"

"Oh for fuck's sake, shut up and sit down." Newman had jumped out of her seat, marched right up to him and grabbed the sides of both his arms, pushing him roughly backwards into the last remaining empty seat beside her own. There was a small glass of golden liquid already set out for him. Not letting go of where she had placed her hands just below his shoulders, she leaned forward until her face was mere inches from his own.

"For once in life stop being so bloody superior. Stop thinking that you alone hold the answers to everything, that you know better than everyone and that you know what is best for everyone all the time. You know fuck all, just like the rest of us….You don't even know why he drank." Her eyes, so close to his for the first time, were the colour of dark honey, with specks of warm brown and electric green dotted around the irises. He marvelled at what a peculiar thing this was to notice at such a time as this. Not even insulted by the harshness of her words, he noted that there were droplets of moisture clinging to her lashes, and that her lids were still swollen and read. Now was clearly not the time to argue with her. His hands felt useless, folded neatly on his lap as they were. He truly wished he had a better understanding of human grief; perhaps then he would be able to think of the appropriate thing to say.

"You don't even know…" she repeated, this time in a mere whisper. As her breath washed over his face he saw that new tears had formed in her eyes and were running down her face. He followed one with his eyes, across the curve of her pale green cheek, down to her chin where it collected in a small droplet. He watched in fascination as the droplet detached from her face and fell, down, down, and landed on the back of his right hand. A bolt like lightning made its way from the base of his spine all the way up to his neck; heat flooding his face, making his lips tremble slightly.

She let out a heavy sight and pushed herself away from him forcefully, leaving him almost feeling cold at the absence of her warm breath.

"Do what you fucking want. If you wont drink it, someone else will."

She let herself fall back onto her chair and downed her own glass in one go.

In fascination he watched his own hand, tearstained and trembling ever so slightly, as it reached for his drink without his permission. Doing exactly as she had done, he swallowed the sharp amber liquid in one gulp. Regaining his senses somewhat at the painful burn it caused on its way down his throat and oesophagus, he noticed the multiple sets of baffled eyes fixed upon him. Cadet Chekov's mouth was hanging open, he, however, recovered momentarily, downed his own drink, then proceeded to refill everyone's glass. Spock did not have the slightest interest in pointing out to anyone that Chekov was, in fact, too young to drink.

After the two bottles of whiskey were finished, their little party dispersed into smaller groups. Pike dragged him off to the far corner of the room and bought him a beer. He decided that, since it was too late anyway, he was going to have it. They spent the next hour discussing Starfleet's failure in taking decisive measures against the Klingons responsible for Commander Lennox death. Pike kept hurling insults at the non-present offenders, while Spock repeatedly illustrated the negligible possibility of him having gotten to Lennox in time, even if he hadn't caught Newman.

"Fucking diplomatic immunity my ass." Pike slurred, almost like a conclusion.

Spock thought it best to just nod. Somehow Pike's violent verbal outbursts reminded him of Lennox. He smiled at the thought. He heard Pike emitting odd choking and spitting noises. When he looked directly at him, the other man was staring, beer dripping from his chin.

"Oh dear lord, ' think I should stop drinkin', 'M starting to see things." Without any further explanation Pike got up, grabbed the jacket of his dress uniform, and walked out the door, leaving a mildly perturbed Spock behind.

Concluding that he had compromised himself enough, Spock stood, retrieved his own jacket and made his way towards the door. In passing he noted that some of his drinking companions were still going strong. Cadets Kirk, Gaila, McCoy, and P'Grell were seated on one of the low tables with large padded chairs, debating, no doubt, some highly irrelevant topic. On a couch right behind them both Captain Taylor and Cadet Chekov were curled up asleep. Shaking his head at the sight, and immediately concluding that that was a bad idea as it sent his vision spinning, Spock made for the narrow passage to the back exit. Not as stable on his feet as he was used to, he collided with a small body emerging from one of the restrooms. Cadet Newman looked up at him in surprise:

"Sir, I didn't realise you were still here." Her cheeks were flushed from the whiskey and her hair had been freed of its restraining knot, tumbling passed her shoulders to her waist in thick dark curls.

"I didn't mean to be so rude to you earlier, Sir. And I shouldn't have made you drink, I'm sorry." She had to tilt her head back to look at his face, standing, as she was, a mere foot away from him.

"Not at all." he inhaled deeply, noting that his breathing had become a little uneven.

"I had no right to question how you chose to mourn Commander Lennox, on the contrary, I'm sorry I did not appreciate the aptness of the gesture as I should have." He swallowed hard as she gave him a sad little smile, so unlike her usual wide grin.

"Captain Pike explained to me that you were dancing for Commander Lennox and his wife. The reason for his drinking, which you referred to earlier, was, I believe…" he broke off as he saw tears forming in her eyes yet again.

"Damn it." Newman wiped her cheeks rather forcefully, swiping at the little droplets of water as if she held a grudge against them.

"I'm sorry Sir, I don't know why I can't stop crying, I usually don't…cry, I mean. But every time I think I've no more tears left, off I go again." She shook her head and stared at the floor as if for once embarrassed by her show of emotions.

Clearly not in possession of his mental faculties, Spock reached out one hand and tilted her chin upward so she was looking at him once more. Placing the other hand at the side of her face and wiping the tears away with his thumb he told her quietly:

"That is quite all right."

Remembering how his mother had often soothed him when he was a very small child, he leaned forward to place a light kiss on her forehead, but found that his lips were travelling lower of their own accord, finding her mouth instead. He had meant to be gentle, the way he remembered kissing as a child, but as her scent washed over him and the heat of her body reached out for his, he lost control. A small wince of pain and the taste of iron and salt alerted him to the fact that he was pressing his lips to Newman's rather too forcefully, opening the wound at the side of her mouth. She, however, did not pull away, but opened her lips slightly. Before he could even begin to comprehend what he was doing, his tongue had entered her mouth, tasting her warmth eagerly, one of his hands had found its way into her hair and the other one pressed her tiny body to his, effectively lifting her off the ground. His breath was coming in small gasps, taking in the smell and taste of her all at once and making his head spin.

Sudden realisation of his actions came like a shock of electricity coursing trough him, so violently that he almost dropped her.

"I…" he began. She was staring at him in complete shock, quite possibly not only surprised by his outrageous behaviour, but also by compliance in it.

"Forgive me Cadet Newman. I don't know what…. – Vulcans don't drink."

He felt like an idiot. At a complete loss as to what to say or do he chose the worst course of action possible: he fled, leaving Newman standing there, one hand pressed to her slightly bruised lips, breathing heavily, and looking stunned.

**A/N: Reviews?**

**Please?**


	9. Not Even Subconsciously

**Hi all,**

**Thank you sooooo much for the reviews. (9 for one chapter is my new record, and I know some people get 40, but I think in this case it is very much quality over quantity. You guys rock!!!!)**

**A big thank you to Sweet A. K., who pointed out that I got the "Baby got Back" thing a tad wrong… MC Hammer? What? Anyways, I fixed it, and of course that's Sir Mix-a-Lot. (aside: I hope it was clear that the iPod thing was a joke, sometimes these things don't work so well in short messages.)**

**Another big thank you to miller330 for mentioning the idea of Spock mulling things over. **

**More on me getting things wrong: the Stardates I quoted were off 'cause I didn't do my research properly and used the year Spock Prime originates from to calculate my dates,…yup, I'm a dunce. (I will stick to making Spock older than 30 though, 'cause I think he should age much more slowly if he's going to live for another 150 or something years. I had a reference to that when he thinks of Lennox as only relatively, not technically older)**

**I'm also sticking with TOS's view of Orions as patriarchal. The whole "really, it's the women who are in charge, hee hee, isn't that funny" thing was a bit heavy handed in ENT, I thought.**

**To Deansleatherjacket: Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it's Jane Austen in Space …again!!!**

**To vulcanvamp: I may just have bamboozled you with feminism and knitting, again. No kissing though. (hee hee, that sounds dodgy too)**

**To Black Mary Janes: Pffffff. Men. (shrugs).**

Aureya woke the next morning with a head like a throbbing vat of tar and the distinct sensation that she was about to remember something horrible.

As it turned out, "horrible" wasn't quite the right word. "Insane", "bizarre', "completely inexplicable", and plain old "mortifying" fit the bill much better. Aureya groaned; _how the hell had that happened?_

"You're finally awake." Noyota's voice brought her to full consciousness. "Just as well we don't have any classes today, it's half past three."

_Oh God, Noyota_.

Aureya remembered the image of her roommate staring adoringly at Commander Spock with those gorgeous dark eyes of hers. Not that anything had changed, or happened, really, after all, they were both drunk, but she could definitely not tell Noyota.

_Crap._

As a matter of fact, she couldn't tell anyone.

_Again, not that it was a big deal, or that it really mattered, it was just a kiss, and she didn't even like the guy, or rather, she didn't really know what she thought of him, she remembered hating him at one point, and anyways, he was her instructor, and he was half Vulcan and she was half Orion, what a total recipe for disaster, and he was much older than her, she didn't even know by how much, what with Vulcan life spans and all, and then of course there was the whole thing about him not liking her, only that was odd, 'cause what the hell was he doing kissing her in the first place, and why had she let him, and why had she turned into a completely useless lump of jelly, and what the fuck was she even thinking about?_

"'You OK?" Uhura handed her a cup of coffee, which she received gratefully.

"What happened to your lips? They look worse again, and really swollen, did you hit your face off something."

"Nnnnnmmmaaahh." was all Aureya managed to say to that.

"Ok then." Uhura gave her a sardonic look.

"You don't remember, do you? I heard you stumbling around in here last night; you were pretty bad. You don't have a clue what happened to your face, do you?"

_Oh sweet Cassiopeia's tits, if only that were true._

She remembered exactly what had happened to her face, complete with blurred, black speckled vision afterwards that wouldn't go away, hence all the stumbling.

_Seriously, what did they put in whiskey?_

Looking at Noyota she merely shrugged.

_Lie, damn it, lie_.

"No idea."

Uhura giggled, shaking her head.

"Well, I'd better call Leonard to have a look at you, do you think he'd be conscious by now?"

"Give him another hour or so."

She hated lying, which given her genes, was probably unusual; that didn't mean she wasn't good at it. One of the reasons she avoided it as much as possible was that once she started, she tended to get carried away. Not today. She simply sat there, meekly sipping her coffee, hoping that maybe, just maybe, she would wake up a second time, this time for real, and that none of the stuff going 'round her head had actually happened.

No such luck.

---

"That vas a good night, vhat a vay to send Commander Lennox off, I don't remember much about the end, though." Noting Chekov's happy smile as they made their way to Commander Spock's office while her nerves were about to quite literally snap, Aureya could not resist the chance to cheer herself up a little.

"You slept with Captain Taylor."

"I vhat????!!!!!"

She burst our laughing, noting a slight underlying note of hysteria that was not entirely in reaction to Chekov's horrified expression.

"Like babies, both of you curled up on a couch, snoring away happily."

"Shit Eya, you just nearly gafe me a heart attack." he playfully whacked her arm with the palm of his hand.

"Pavel, from what I hear, you would remember, I think." She gave him a sheepish grin, then fought a wave of sheer panic as they rounded the corner of the corridor and Commander Spock's office door came into view. Chekov was oblivious to the fact that she was hanging back and after giving a polite ring, entered the numeral sequence and stepped into the office. Aureya took a deep breath and followed. Commander Spock was seated at his desk, PAD in hand, and gave them both his usual uninterested nod of acknowledgment.

"Cadet Chekov, Cadet Newman, please take a seat."

_Nothing. Just the same as always._

Aureya wasn't sure if she felt relieved or slightly irritated at this.

"I am afraid I have to cut my office hour short today, as I am required for a simulation exam at 1400 hours and need some time to prepare. Furthermore, I need to speak with Cadet Newman in private before I leave, so I propose we perform our usual duties until 1230 hours, agreed?"

Chekov just nodded his agreement, clearly completely unaware of anything amiss with what the Commander had just suggested, he had requested private conversations with both of them on numerous occasion.

_Oh holy crap, did he expect her to sit here for half an hour and just wait for him to pass judgment on whatever the hell it was they had done two days ago?_

.

.

.

_Yup, apparently he did._

After the most excruciatingly, agonisingly useless 30 minutes of her life, of course no student had braved the dragon's den that was Spock's office hour, she heard the Commander clear his throat. Chekov took the hint, packed his bag and rose to leave:

"I'll see you in the mess hall for lunch. …Oh and are you going to that thing Bones is organising for Jim? Something to do vith "he vill need cheering up"?"

"Yea, I'll be there, but I'll see you in the mess hall first."

_Huh, that was interesting, she sounded almost normal. And she'd given the right answer. Very odd, considering that a really loud voice in her head was screaming:_

"_NOOOOO!!!! DON'T LEAVE ME!!!!"; she was actually kind of proud of herself._

Chekov gave her a cheerful smile, then vanished through the door; it closed with a smooth 'whoosh' behind him.

"Cadet Newman." She turned from where she had watched Chekov disappear through the door and faced Spock. She momentarily considered the option of putting her fingers in her ears and just going: "la la la la la la.", but decided against it.

"Sir?" as he stepped out from behind his desk those blasted black dots started to dance before her eyes again.

_What the hell? She hadn't even had any whiskey._

"I wanted to properly apologise for my behaviour at Commander Lennox's informal memorial."

_Good. That's good,… isn't it?_

"I am highly aware of how inappropriate my actions towards you were, and I have no logical explanation for them. I appear to be suffering some rather peculiar reactions to your close physical proximity, the cause of which I am not entirely certain of. This, in combination with my consumption of some alcoholic beverages, had a most unexpected outcome."

_Are you fucking serious?_

The small black dots were doing the samba, and making it rather difficult to focus.

"I am also aware that my assault on you could be interpreted as a romantic advance, however, on closely and meticulously analysing the situation, I have come to the conclusion that that is not a possibility.

Our respective genetic make-ups, our cultural and ethical – though not intellectual – incompatibility, as well as the significant difference in our physical size and our sexual needs, makes it nigh impossible that I could have, even subconsciously, chosen you as a potential mate."

_Oh now you're just plain screwing with me_.

Looking rather pleased with himself, in that infuriatingly opaque way of his, he raised his eyebrows, clearly expecting her to comment on his conclusion.

_Deep breaths Aureya, deep breaths, you can do this._

"Thank you, Sir. I am very relieved to hear you say so. I assure you, I did _not_ interpret your behaviour as an advance, I was certain that you were merely suffering from an adverse reaction to the alcohol I forced you to drink. I accept your apology and extend my own."

_Well done, that sounded pretty good. Nice and pompous too, just the way he likes it._

"Accepted Ms Newman, and thank you."

He looked minutely smug.

"Dismissed."

Aureya swiftly packed her belongings and managed to get out of the office without stumbling, once the door closed behind her, however, she had to lean against the wall and take a few steadying breaths. To her immense relief the dancing black spots subsided slowly.

_Hawkins' eyebrows, what the hell…?_

Turning to face the door she added out loud:

"…and what the hell…?"

She knew she had been suspiciously quiet during lunch but assumed that Chekov didn't remark on it because Lennox's passing gave them all plenty of reasons to be quiet. When she began to repeatedly stab her steak, however, he gave her a worried look.

"Are you all right? Vhat did the Commander vant?"

_Yea, what __**did**__ the Commander want? And why __**wasn't**__ she all right. Damn it, what was she even upset about?_

"I'm fine, Pavel. Really." She gave him a rather weak smile.

'_With the lying again. She knew it, once she started it always got out of control. She should have told Commander Spock that she thought his behaviour had been confusing and upsetting, and that she could not explain her physical response to it either. Nothing wrong with that, it was the truth. She had no problem with him not being interested in her, after all, she wasn't interested in him. So, why did she lie? And why was she so fucking mad at him?_

"Hello? Earth to Aureya. Please cone in."

"Sorry Pavel, pointy-ears just pissed me off,… never mind…. Want to head for the Green Wolf, it's coming up to three?"

_That's better. That was all true._

"Sure. Vhy does Jim need cheering up again?"

"Kobayashi Maru, second time." No further explanation was needed, Chekov just nodded knowingly.

---

"Guys, I really appreciate your immense faith in me. Setting up a condolences party before even knowing that I've failed again, is just sooo sweet of you."

Aureya and Chekov had just sat down, having made their way to their chairs by taking the long way round, passing the little table in the corner, rubbing the wooden top as they went.

Kirk was already half way through his first beer. He most certainly did not look victorious.

"Well, Jim, did you pass?" Bones asked rather cruelly, the prerogative of a best friend.

"Shut up."

"Right."

"Damn it, there has to be a way though." Kirk shook his head, then took another swig from his drink.

"I think the basic idea of the exam is that there isn't…a way, I mean." Aureya had been a little surprised to see Noyota there; she did not usually come along to the less upstanding events their little group so frequently attended. She was even more surprised when her roommate took a sip from what was clearly a whiskey sour.

"Yea, the programming is so complex, it would take at least 6 months to break that, and then there is still the numeral sequences and the access modem and all the abstract space calculations,…I mean, you can't even hack it." Gaila had one arm slung around Kirk's shoulder in a comforting gesture and was holding P'Grell's hand on her other side.

_Well, at least that was the same as usual._

"Exactly." Chekov nodded emphatically. "The numeral sequences and abstract space calculations haf at least 20 codes embedded in them, each. Trial and error on that vould take a long time."

"Yea, and the access modem, even if you had all your calculations done, needs to be physically linked to the simulation mainframe, and that would be what? Shrem?" Aureya turned to her friend.

"Almost impossible." P'Grell answered as intended.

"Holy shit!!!" Kirk jumped out of his seat so suddenly and forcefully that the entire group gave a collective start, Gaila, Uhura, and P'Grell all sounding out a little squeal.

"That's it!" He was beaming at them with a smile that was as much delight as it was mania.

"What?" Bones had noticed his expression too and sounded concerned.

"Hacking it." Kirk stated simply.

"Come on, look at us. We have four of the most talented students in Starfleet right here – well, actually, we have five, but _you're_ no use to us, Nyo – " he through Uhura a brief apologetic look, "we can totally kick that Vulcan's ass."

"…use to _you_, you mean." Noyota glared at him, lips pursed and eyebrows raised.

"And that's a felony, Jim. You can't hack into military exam programs, are you out of your mind?" she looked rather upset, so Bones stroked her hand reassuringly.

_Whoa, hang on a minute, what's going on there?_

"Yea, fine, help _me_. And I don't see it as a felony if the exam is rigged. 'Cause that's what you call an exam that can't be passed." Kirk looked utterly convinced.

"And you guys can't tell me that you're not itching to get your hands on that program. The Kobayashi Maru is infamous, Starfleet history, imagine taking it down."

Oh, Kirk could be extremely seductive when he wanted to be. Aureya noted that both Gaila and P'Grell wore an almost identical grin, then realised that so was she. Chekov looked a little concerned, but his eyes were sparkling as if with a welcome challenge.

"You guys are not actually listening to him, are you?" Noyota looked appalled.

"Oh, come on Nyo, we all know you have a bit of a thing for the pointy eared bastard, but this is just too good to pass up. When is there ever going to be another group like us?" She looked momentarily stunned at Kirk's words, then turned on him:

"You are in all earnestness going to turn your friends into a group of petty criminals?... And my former infatuation with Commander Spock has nothing to do with this. It is quite beside the point. I don't have to defend a little crush to you, and I am sure that many other cadets have noticed the fact that he is an extremely attractive individual, both physically as well as intellectually." She gave the other two women a questioning look, then briefly glanced at P'Grell, before recalling some obvious evidence to counter _that_ misjudgement.

Gaila merely looked at her with a scowl of disgust, while Aureya fought the urge to bang her head off the table.

"And may I remind you that you all still have those temporary notes on your records from the last bright idea you all went along with." Noyota had hit a nerve there.

"I'll take the rap, no need to get anyone else into trouble." Kirk announced brightly.

"You mean you'll take the glory." Bones stated rather dryly.

"I don't mind that, I just want to do it for the fun of it." Gaila looked excited. She wasn't the only one.

---

Heading back to their room with Noyota, Gaila in tow, who had decided she needed a girly chat, Aureya kept glancing at her roommate from the corners of her eyes.

"So,… I suppose you're welcome?" she said with a rather wicked grin.

"For what?" Uhura looked clueless.

"For me always getting into trouble…falling off things, running into things…like knife wielding Klingons…for needing so much _medical attention_." She wriggled her eyebrows at her friend.

Noyota burst into embarrassed giggles, then defended herself:

"I really shouldn't be drinking in the middle of the afternoon, he's already a bad influence on me." Her wide grin completely negated her words.

"For a linguist you sure have problems with the definition of the word 'student'." Aureya pointed out.

Their girly afternoon proved surprisingly civilised and mostly involved drinking coffee and talking about the recent developments between Bones and Noyota. Gaila occasionally gave unsolicited sex advice, heavily relying on rather graphic examples using Kirk and P'Grell in rotation. Both Aureya and Uhura eventually begged her to stop. Slightly upset about the fact that her only recent "romantic" experience was in no shape or form open to public scrutiny, Aureya had just taken another sip from her cup and was contemplating asking an abstract question about her situation, when Uhura got up and announced:

"Sorry girls, I shall leave you here, I have an appointment." And proceeded to fish a small bag from the back of her wardrobe.

"What's that?" Gaila indicated the bag. "It's too small for an overnight bag, even for you."

"What? No, I'm not … It's nothing."

"Oooooooo, something's up." Gaila sounded intrigued rather than judgmental.

"It's nothing like that… and I'd really like to keep it private."

"You're not helping your case here, girl." Gaila wouldn't let it go.

"Fine. I knit, Ok? I'm going to Taylor's knitting circle, are you happy now?" Uhura's defensive stance and flustered expression were just too funny.

Aureya, who had nearly spilled her coffee at the words "knitting circle", had to laugh:

"What are you guys, some secret underground movement?" for good measure she lifted her fist in a rebel salute.

"Do you have to kill us now that we know?"

Uhura just sighed in exasperation.

"I wanna come." Gaila announced, looking eager.

"Yea, me too." Aureya found herself saying.

"Oh no, no way. I'm not having the two of you sitting there, pointing and giggling and going 'Oooooo, look at granny Uhura'. 'Not going to happen." She crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked determined.

"Oh please, please, please." Gaila whined, while Aureya did her best puppy impression, bouncing up and down on the bed and letting her tongue show while panting.

"Oh God. Fine then, but you go, you knit, got it?"

This time both women gave her the salute.

---

Taylor's quarters had an old fashioned cosiness about them that did not entirely come as a surprise. The same could not be said of one of the members of the circle. Shrem P'Grell was seated on the couch with a substantial piece of scarf suspended from two needles, sipping a cup of tea. Next to him were two young women Aureya was not familiar with, doing pretty much the same thing. On second thought, Aureya concluded that it wasn't actually _that_ much of a surprise.

"Shnoozy." Gaila squealed, heading straight for Shrem.

"Oh, crap." He groaned, throwing Noyota an accusing look.

Captain Taylor emerged from the kitchen with a large tray of cookies and a homemade cake.

"Oh, welcome." She smiled brightly "New blood, I see."

"I knew it, it's a cult." Aureya remarked and pretended to make for the door.

"Brought you some knitting virgins, Miriam. 'Got some spare needles and yarn?" Noyota took a seat and patted the spot next to her while looking at Aureya.

"Sure, always."

As it turned out, Aureya's technical ability had its limits. Half an hour into the experience she had a shrivelled lump of wool on one needle that refused to slide to either side and would not allow her to stick the second needle anywhere near it.

Fortunately the knitting seemed to be only part of the point of the little get together.

"So?" the young woman introduced to them as Cadet Kate Renvelle gave Noyota a meaningful look "I hear there is some interesting news with you."

Gaila answered before Uhura had a chance to:

"Yup, someone likes playing doctor these days."

"You sure have a thing for authority figures, Noyota." Renvelle remarked.

"What about you sweetheart?" Taylor smiled at Aureya "I always see you with that pretty Russian boy. So you like them young, huh? Well, I can empathise."

Aureya had to giggle at that, despite having heard that line so many times, the way Taylor put it had to be her firm favourite.

"No, Ma'am, Cadet Chekov is my best friend."

Then she added: "How come no one's grilling Gaila, she has much more interesting stories to tell, ones where stuff actually happens?"

"First off," Taylor gave her another smile "call me Miriam in my own house, secondly, we all know what Cadet Gaila is up to."

Gaila did not seem perturbed by that at all, she just grinned widely.

Shrem felt the need to elaborate:

"Well, there's Kirk, and then there's me, and that guy from Navigation."

"Oh yea, I forgot about him." Gaila sighed.

"You always do, sweetie." Shrem gave her an affectionate smile.

"Ah, Cadet Kirk," Taylor remarked "the young man with the lovely firm bottom."

They all broke into giggles at that.

"I can see why Shrem doesn't mind, Andorians being polygamous and all, how come Jim is Ok with all this?" Aureya felt terribly naïve for asking.

"Friends with benefits isn't quite the same thing as lovers, pet." Taylor pointed out rather astutely. Aureya was marginally glad that things seemed complicated all around.

By the end of the evening both Gaila and Aureya were converted, if not necessarily to knitting, then at least to the circle. They called Taylor "el Capitan" when they left, and Gaila promised to bring Orion crunch balls for their next meeting.

With only five weeks left until the end of the academic year, Chekov contracted Denobulan hic ups. A stupid name for a rather unpleasant if harmless illness, for while it was not dangerous to the patient, the term 'hic up' was in fact misleading, since it referred to short, violent fits of vomiting. He was prescribed bed rest for at least two weeks, and so Aureya ended up not only having her private tutorial, but also Commander Spock's office hour, to sit there and feel awkward.

The Commander behaved mostly normal, with a few exceptions when he initiated blatantly pointless conversations about topics that had nothing to do with what they had been discussing previously. Aureya concluded that he must be feeling awkward too.

During the second week of Chekov's absence, they had just finished grading first year mock exams, he asked:

"On Darius 12 you made an analogy of food, music, and art. I believe you never had the chance to reply to my question as to how you perceive them to be linked. May I ask that you do so now?"

_And here we go again_.

"I'm sorry, Sir, I don't believe I recall the exact circumstances. Could you remind me?'

"I believe you were strongly in disagreement with my statement that food is merely food and should hold no intrinsic value beyond a simple physical function."

"Oh that. Yea, that's bollocks."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Good food is capable of eliciting great pleasure, of evoking memories, of influencing our state of mind in any given situation, that, in my view makes it art." Aureya clarified.

"Surely that is not an adequate definition of art. Technical perfection, mastery, the meticulous attention to detail, those are some of the aspects which create art. And I may not be too familiar with the visual arts, but I have a passable knowledge of music, and I know for a fact that it is the precise and mathematical arrangement of notes, which defines it."

Aureya laughed rather patronisingly:

"Sir, that's like saying that a paint brush is a painting. You just listed tools, the objects and abstract ideas that are used in order to create art, not the work itself."

He was momentarily silent, so she took the opportunity to add:

"And I know a thing or two about music too."

This seemed to pique his interest:

"You play?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Orion harp?'

"Acoustic Guitar, Sir, though Cadet Gaila is teaching me the harp. Do you play, Sir?"

"Vulcan lute."

"Ah."

_Oh great, right back to bloody awkward._

"So, Cadet Newman, what exactly makes music what it is then? What quality have I, according to your standards, missed?"

"I don't think you've missed anything, Sir. And I don't think it has a name, it is what it is, just because you are not aware of it, doesn't mean it's not there…. Have you ever played a sad song and made someone cry, Sir?"

"I believe that on occasion my playing has been described as quite moving, yes."

"Then there you go, now that's not maths, is it?"

He gave her a very thoughtful look, then nodded curtly.

_Fuck, there go the black dots again. 'Should really ask Bones about that._

"Sir, I believe it is 1305 Hours." She had never witnessed him losing track of time before, and the little start he gave on being informed of it proved that he was not used to it either.

"Before you leave,… Captain Pike has asked me to inform you that he requests your presence at a short meeting with a small Orion delegation. I believe it is merely as a cosmetic show of inclusion. I have informed him that you are not particularly versed in Orion culture, but he believes that both your as well as Cadet Gaila's mere presence will adequately illustrate our good intentions."

"Certainly, Sir."

"Thank you Ms Newman, I shall see you at 1800 Hours tomorrow evening at the mess hall. Dismissed."

"Cosmetic" clearly was the operative word of the evening. Aureya and Gaila were part of the little group greeting the Orion delegation, then waited outside while the actual talks took place.

"So, what do you think? I like the green bald one." Gaila joked as they were left standing to attention in the hallway.

"The big guy freaked me out, he was staring at me like I was cake." Aureya scrunched up her nose and gave her friend a disgusted look.

"Oh I'm sure his many, many years of experience make up for the bulge." Gaila grinned.

Aureya merely shuddered at this, not entirely convinced that Gaila was actually joking. Judging from her happy grin and the fact that she was humming classical music, she concluded that it would be a bad idea to ask her what she was thinking.

The talks merely lasted an hour, Orion/Federation relations being a rather fragile affaire with everyone involved happy to get things over and done with before anything could go wrong.

The women's "cosmetic" services were required once again as they accompanied the Orions to their shuttle. Captain Pike looked noticeably relieved that the entire thing had gone off without a hitch and was extending a hand in farewell, when the most expansive of the Orion's addressed him:

"Surely, as a sign of good will, it would be within my rights to request a small token of appreciation?" The somewhat disconcerted expressions of the other Orions alerted them all to the fact that something had just gone horribly wrong. Captain Pike, clearly at a loss as to how to reply, wisely chose to reserve his answer by merely giving the Orion a questioning look.

"The half human female intrigues me; I would appreciate it, if she is not in anyone's possession at the moment, if you would bestow her as a gift." He stated this so matter of factly that it took everyone a moment to realise what he had just said.

Captain Pike looked rather stunned, throwing Commander Spock a somewhat helpless look. His decision to dismiss Captain Taylor straight after the talks had clearly been a mistake. With no anthropologist at hand, he seemed rather uncertain as to how to proceed.

The general sense of confusion did nothing to staunch Aureya's rising panic.

_They wouldn't, would they?_

"Ahhhhm…" Captain Pike began rather lamely, when Aureya felt two hands placed firmly on her shoulders from behind.

"As a matter of fact, Cadet Newman is presently not at liberty to accompany you, Ambassador." Commander Spock had his entire body pressed against her back, his voice was a deep growl in his chest and Aureya deduced from the rather frightened expression of the Orion delegate, that he was giving him his sternest look. Black spots started to seriously impair her vision and the Orions began to swim before her eyes. She could still make out their hasty farewell and retreat though. When they were out of earshot, Pike laughed with relief.

"That was brilliant, Spock, for a moment there I thought we were in serious trouble. I didn't know Vulcans could lie."

"Thank you, Christopher. However, if you recall my words correctly, I did not, in fact, lie. I may simply have inferred some none existent circumstances in a rather forceful manner." Spock's voice was back to normal, he had, however, not let go of Aureya's shoulders. As she turned and tilted her head upward to look at his face, the black dots grew dramatically in size. The last thing she actually saw was the floor lurching towards her at an odd angle and with alarming speed.

Then nothing.

Just blackness.

**A/N: Nobody panic!**

**Reviews? Pretty please?**


	10. Mine

**A/N: OK, so apparently I have no life, 'cause I thought I'd post this tomorrow. Nope. The fact that I got so many reviews (for me 13 is many, yaaaay!), meant that I couldn't keep you guys waiting and had to finish this. (see, this is how it works…the carrot, not the stick)**

**So, if you thought Aureya was brave heading for a mad, agitated Klingon twice her size, wait till you read this. (hee hee)**

**A big thank you to everyone who reviewed, especially Hegger (wow, creative choice of a name there!) who is my friend and snuck in. Nearly gave me heart attack too.**

**To vulcanvamp, B.N. Bennett and dragonwitch250: I wonder what could be wrong with her, what could it be? ;p **

**To Sweet A.K.: I'm currently undecided between "you little cow" and "now listen here, young missy". ******

**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek or any of its characters, or any version of "Don't let me be misunderstood".**

_**Aureya**_

Aureya woke in sickbay, disorientated and nauseous, with Bones and two senior medical officers leaning over her.

"Welcome back, sweetheart." He gave her a warm smile, then threw the other two attendants a meaningful look. They both nodded and left.

_Oh God. What?_

"Would you like some water? You've been out for a day and a half, you should really have some." He looked uncomfortable.

"What's up?" she managed after taking a sip from the cup he was holding out for her. Her voice sounded a little rusty.

"Hmmmm." Bones was fidgeting, playing with the button of the reading lamp on her nightstand, making the light go on and off, on and off.

"Holy shit, I'm dying, aren't I?"

To her immense relief, Bones let out a genuine laugh of amusement.

"Hell no, honey, you're not dying, just suffering an adverse reaction to your suppressants." He clarified.

_He really had to work on his bedside manner._

"Fuck, Bones, you nearly gave me a heart attack…How exactly am I suffering an adverse reaction, I've been on that stuff for 10 years…. Why now?"

_Ah, she'd hit a bull's eye, …with what though?_

His expression returned to being mildly perturbed but she now realised it was slight embarrassment, not concern.

"Well, you know, you are a rather unusual case, being half human and all, and the injection you receive was created specifically for you when you were very young, you see, not all the information needed was available, so there are some problems now that you are fully matured….'Nothing to worry about, though. There are no lasting effects and we will just have to create a new formula for you, now that we have all that additional information."

_Ha!_

"Additional information?" she tried to sound unconcerned, whatever it was he was hiding, he was clearly not particularly keen on getting it out there.

"There are certain physical processes currently taking place in your hormonal makeup that are a recent development: a marked increase in both oestrogen, adrenalin as well as serotonin, presumably due to some previously non-existent psychological and emotional developments, leading to an increase in pheromone production."

"Bones, I have an IQ of 206, if you're trying to confuse me with medical jargon, you'll have to try harder."

He gave her an apologetic shrug:

"Fair enough."

"What developments?"

"Developments that would usually lead to sudden hormone and pheromone spikes."

"Einstein's nose hair, Bones, are you _trying_ to be obtuse?"

"Well, yea. Obviously. Damn it, Eya, I'm a doctor, not a relationship counsellor. Do I really have to spell it out?... You're a grown woman now, your physical reaction to sexual arousal was unforeseeable when you were twelve, the dosage of the chemical in charge of that was calculated way too low. The reason you passed out was because your system was flooded with pheromones that the chemicals in your bloodstream could not deal with. Since there was no way of releasing them, because the rest of the formula was working perfectly, they overloaded your system. There, happy now?" McCoy took a deep breath.

_What? …wait?…no…what????!!!!....oh, crap!_

"Sexual arousal?" her voice came out as a mere squeak.

"Please don't tell me I have to explain _that_ bit to you Miss 'I have an IQ of 206'."

_Oh shit, shit, shit._

Aureya had pulled her knees up to her chest and was now resting her arms and head on top of them.

_Oh dear Lord, this actually makes sense. _

All sorts of events suddenly clicked into place. The night of Lennox's memorial, the reason she had been so upset by _his_ little speech, the time she sort of noticed quite how elegantly he moved when he had walked towards her from behind his desk, the expression in his eyes when he had seriously considered, and then taken on board, her argument, and the time she could feel his chest pressed against the back of her head, the way his growl had travelled through her entire body.

_No, no, no, no, no._

She gave a little strangled sob.

Bones reached out and petted one of her hands,

"It's OK, honey, we'll have the new formula sorted in a week or so. No need to get so upset."

_What the hell did __**he**__ know?!_

_Wait, what __**did**__ he know?_

He would never be this uncomfortable just because she had some odd hormonal reaction to her first proper "mating urges". Would he? But he couldn't know, it could have been any number of men, for all he knew it could have been the fat Orion.

"I'll get you a hormonal supplement, that should keep you from the worst for now. Then I'll take you to your quarters, no need to stay here, you'll be fine."

Aureya sighed a small sigh of relief; his light tone of voice and the nonchalant way he was waving his hand around convinced her that he couldn't possibly know.

"You might try not touching the green blooded goblin again, though. Just in case."

_Shit._

As it turned out, Aureya returned from sick leave two days after Chekov had. So, when she met both him and Commander Spock outside the examination hall for Introductory Mathematics and Logic, to invigilate, Spock greeted her with:

"Cadet Newman, I hope you too are fully recovered and feeling better?'

Her eloquent answer took the form of a shrug and something that sounded suspiciously like:

"Ahmmmmnnn,….pffffft."

"Cadet, are you sure you are quite recovered?"

Aureya gave a little squeak of affirmation.

_Just don't look at him…oooooo, shiny floor_.

The Commander raised an eyebrow and looked at her with a hint of scepticism in his eyes.

"Very well," he concluded "the pads on the tables are set out, would you both be so kind as to place the exam questions on them." He reached into his bag, and retrieved two data chips. He handed the first to Chekov, then held the second one out to Aureya, who took a startled step backwards.

_Ah, Crap. Now what?_

Spock gave her a rather surprised eyebrow twitch, so she quickly snatched the chip from his hand, then headed straight for the as yet empty examination hall. Some dark grey dots were dancing in her peripheral vision, but she felt pretty stable on her feet.

_Only for a week, …just a week._

The exam took three hours, most of which Chekov and herself spent standing at the top of the room, waiting, and during which Aureya managed to only stare at the Commander three times, and each time for no more than 5 possibly 7 minutes tops.

What a ridiculous, stupid, and completely pointless thing to do: staring. She hadn't done it before her "diagnosis", what exactly was the use of it now. It was almost as if a conscious knowledge of her subconscious desires led her eyes to all the places they shouldn't go. His eyes, his lips, his hands, his chest, his bum, and….well. yes,… that too.

_Great, just great!_

After the final paper had been handed in and the pads securely stored in a sealed box, Commander Spock turned to Chekov: "May I request that you deposit these in my office, Mr Chekov?" he indicated the box, then added "While I have a word with Ms Newman."

_Shit, no, run. _

"Certainly, Sirr."

As she dolefully watched Chekov head off towards the turbo lift, Aureya frantically looked for a reason to excuse herself.

"Have I in any way offended you, Ms Newman?" she heard Commander Spock say behind her. Turning around she noticed the genuine look of concern in his eyes. Stupidly getting sidetracked and marvelling at quite how big and dark they were, she failed to come up with a decent answer.

"No, Sir. Why would you think that?'

_Oh for fuck's sake, Aureya. Don't ask him questions, that just means he'll talk, you don't want him to talk, your stupid hormone addled brain is just gonna find his voice sexy all of a sudden….well, not all of a sudden really…shit._

"If my behaviour towards you - in the context of the Orion delegation - has been inappropriate, I assure you it was merely out of necessity. I would deeply regret any discomfort caused to you by the implication of an intimate relationship between us, I assumed you would forgive the presumption in the light of the possible outcome of the situation in which it was made."

Aureya took a few steadying breaths, closed her eyes briefly, then forced herself to look straight into the Commander's.

"Sir, I swear to you, I would never be so ungrateful as to blame you for your actions. You saved either the Federation from a disastrous end to negotiations, or me from….I don't even want to know what, I'm sure it would have involved leather, chains and a whip….anyway, Sir, I have my reasons for acting like a fool at the moment, please be assured that none of this is your fault."

_Well, not intentionally, at least._

"You are still unwell, then?"

"Yes, Sir, in a manner of speaking."

_I'm a very sick puppy._

"But Dr McCoy is working on a solution, I expect to be better within the week. Now, may I be excused?"

Commander Spock looked momentarily torn, he clearly felt it was his duty to ascertain what exactly was the matter with her.

_Well, that would be 'fun'_.

He did, however, relent eventually and nodded briefly:

"Dismissed."

Aureya made her getaway as quickly as her wobbly legs would take her, straight out of the science block, across the square and into the medical research lab she knew so well.

Marching passed reception, she slipped through the large glass doors just closing behind a researcher. She went straight to Bones' desk, where he was staring into a microscope. Slamming both hands, palms down on the table, making him jump, she told him:

"You'll have to sedate me or something, I'm not gonna make it through the week. Euthanise me, if you have to."

Bones merely raised his eyebrows in puzzlement.

Aureya groaned:

"Fuck,… don't do that."

Aureya played 3dimntional chess with Chekov every Wednesday afternoon. It was the sort of overly pretentious set up, complete with cheese and crackers, that they both got a good giggle out of. This Wednesday, however, was a slightly different matter. Exams were over, half the students had already left and Chekov had just been informed of his commission aboard the USS Enterprise, still in the hanger and not yet completed, but the Federation's latest flagship none the less. So, when Aureya arrived at his quarters, a celebratory bottle of sherry in her hand – she thought this was a nice little joke – she was greeted by an already raucous crowd of people. Pavel looked a little lost, squeezed in between P'Grell, Gaila and Greenberg, the way he was, and jumped up to greet her.

"Wow, I never realised chess was this popular." She remarked and he gave her a sheepish grin:

"Gaila found out about the Enterprise thing, and the fact that the Science Department has taken me on as a fellow…just make sure she does not try to make a man out of me again."

"Fellow?" she gave him a happy bounce "really?"

"Yes, Commander Spock is leafing the intro M&L to me. I think you vill be vorking on his final year course vith him, that's big too." Aureya felt a little woozy at this, but gave Pavel a bright grin as he gave her a worried look, no doubt noticing that she had gone a little pale.

"Excellent, I'll get to boss third years around."

"Oooooo, hello there, you smell nice." Gaila, clearly no longer sober, had made her way over to them and was wrapping her arms around Aureya from behind.

_Oh-oh. She could tell._

Bones' supplements were enabling her to release a small amount of pheromones, not enough to do any harm, but apparently enough for Gaila to notice. Perfect timing too, since Bones had informed her a few minutes ago that he had finished the new formula and could give it to her in the morning. He had warned her that it would not change her psychological and emotional difficulties, but it would help with the strong physical reactions and urges.

"Aren't you supposed to get a headache or something?" she returned her attention to Gaila.

"Nope, that just works on non-Orion females, this way we can work as a group, if you know what I mean." She gave Aureya a crooked grin and a wink.

"So, Pavel, what have you been saying to Eya to make her all, mmmmm,…..well?"

Chekov looked rather confused.

"Huh?'

"Not him." Aureya hissed.

"Not me, vhat?"

"Oooooooo. Who? Who?" Gaila was scanning the room, looking as excited as a puppy about to be taken for a walk.

Aureya put a hand over her eyes for a moment then grabbed Gaila by the arm and dragged her out of Chekov's quarters, calling an embarrassed "Sorry" over her shoulder to her rather baffled looking friend.

As the door shut behind them, muffling the noise to a low hum, Aureya put her hands on her hips and gave her friend her best angry glare.

"What? 'Just curious. …And can I please say: "about frickin time!""

"I'm not discussing this with you, Gaila, but I need you to swear to me that you won't tell anyone, do you understand me?"

"Pfffft, I'm about as good at keeping secrets as a … Well, not very good." She waved her hand above her head, clearly too far gone to think of a fitting analogy.

"You'd better not tell me anything else, cause trust me, by tomorrow everyone in that room will know something's going on."

"Gaila,…" she wished she could hate her friend for this, but she knew her too well to expect her to act any differently. And on closer consideration, how many people would swear on their lives that they could keep a secret, and then tell it anyway?

"Excuse me?'

Both women turned to find a slender older woman in rather formal civilian attire standing behind them. Aureya felt a small twinge of recognition but could not place her.

"I seem to have lost my way somewhat, would either of you know where I can find Accommodation Building 18?"

"Oooooo, you're pretty for an old lady." Gaila was leaning against the wall, a small smile on her lips.

"I'll take you." Aureya offered quickly, turning to Gaila she added rather harshly: "You! Inside! Now!" Gaila merely shrugged and complied.

"I'm sorry about my friend, she's….ahm, chemically unbalanced,…in more than one way…..Oh, give me that." The older woman was about to protest, but Aureya had already grabbed the bag she had been carrying.

"You got properly lost, we're nowhere near 18, that's staff accommodations." Aureya smiled and the older woman returned the sentiment.

"I am quite useless with directions." She said ruefully.

"I'm Cadet Aureya Newman." She held out her free hand as they entered the turbo lift.

"Amanda Grayson." The other woman replied as she took it, an odd look almost approaching sentimentality on her face.

"Your face is familiar, but I haven't heard your name before, I think." Aureya remarked.

"That is rather peculiar, it is the opposite with me, I am quite certain we haven't met before but your name…rings a bell." She used the expression as if it were a long lost memory only just returned. Aureya had to giggle at the mental image of Gaila noting that this was a rather pathetic 'come on' on both sides.

"I don't know why it would… the only reason why you might know my name is because I was part of one of the two teams who won the Lennox Challenge this year,…could that be it?"

"Oh….of course, Cadet Newman, I should have realised, you're pale green…." She followed this rather eccentric exclamation with a huge smile, which she immediately hid behind her hand.

Aureya gave her a puzzled look, but Amanda simply shook her head.

"I am sorry, that was rude of me, but I have in fact heard of you, I was only just now able to place you. How silly of me, I am sure there are not a lot of half Orion cadets in Starfleet."

"Nope, the one and only." Aureya gave her a bright smile.

"So, Ms Grayson, have you been hired as staff for the next academic year?"

"Oh no, I'm here to surprise my son, it's his birthday tomorrow."

"That's nice, I'm sure he'll be pleased."

"I really don't think so, he is not partial to surprises. It's rather selfish of me. I had some business on Earth and I thought it would be nice to see him."

"You live off planet?"

"Yes…"

Before she had a chance to explain fully, they had reached their destination.

"Voila, Building 18. I've only been inside a few times to see my former Engineering Instructor, but if you like I could give you a hand finding your way around."

The other woman gave her a relieved smile.

"I am looking for quarters 29Q." she told her.

"No problem."

_**Spock**_

Having contemplated Newman's rather odd behaviour of the previous day, then taken some herbal tea and raw salad, Spock was now meditating in an attempt to put the strange sense of irritation and regret he was experiencing out of his mind. His behaviour during the end of the Orion delegation's visit had indeed been an act of necessity, this did, however, not change the fact that he had felt a genuine sense of panic, very quickly followed by rage, as the Orion delegate had made his claim on Newman. He had been so surprised by his own emotional response that he had failed to catch her when she had fallen unconscious. If she had sustained any injuries it would have been entirely his fault.

Noting that he was perhaps in need of another cup of tea before he could focus completely on his meditation, he got up and made his way to the kitchen. Before he had the chance to reach it, his door announced a visitor.

A little taken aback, and remembering that the only person who was wont to march into his quarters unannounced was no longer there to do so, he went to open it personally.

To his immense surprise and shock, Newman was standing there, a small travelling bag in her hand, right next to his mother. Both he and Newman gave a simultaneous start and she took a step back.

"Ah, crap!" she announced, before slapping a hand over her mouth and giving his mother first a shocked then an apologetic look.

"Sorry, Sir, you just startled me. I didn't realise…." She trailed off. She almost flung the small bag at him, then turned to his mother again:

"I'm so sorry, I forgot something important. I hope you have a lovely stay." With this she turned to him:

"Sorry, Sir, …have to go." Without waiting to be dismissed she dashed off towards the lift.

"You're right." His mother stated, staring, like him, after Newman's retreating form "She really doesn't like you very much, does she?"

"I don't remember saying this, I presume you are inferring it from my comments?" he felt a small twinge of irritation at his mother; his mouth was still partially open, he noted, and he proceeded to close it immediately.

"You said she calls you names on a regular basis." Amanda stated, then entered his quarters and announced:

"Hello, Spock."

"Hello, mother. How unexpected to see you here." He raised an eyebrow in a way he knew she would be able to identify as meaning "you could have called."

She merely smiled at him, not making any attempt to hide it as she was wont to do.

"How nice, I've only been here an hour and I already feel like I understand your life at the academy so much better."

Relenting, he gave her one of his rare smiles and said: "You are welcome any time, mother."

"I know, darling." She had not used the endearment since he had been very little; her visit to her home planet was apparently playing havoc with her well-practiced restraint.

"I won't impose on you for too long, I have an important appointment tomorrow afternoon, but until then I feel it is permissible for me to spend some time with my only son." She gave him a look as if to dare him to disagree and he felt that it would not be such a bad thing to please her, so he leaned forward and gave her a quick hug. When he drew back she was positively beaming up at him. "Thank you mother, I am very happy that you have chosen to spend part of my birthday with me." She gave an audible sigh, then stroked his cheek and said with some regret:

"53, you're all grown up."

Letting her thoughts wonder for a minute, she appeared to have made a mental leap when she spoke again:

"Mind you, I like her."

"Whom are you referring to?"

"Cadet Newman. When I was young we would have called her 'spunky"." She smiled at this.

"I believe that word is still very much in use, mother, and has been applied to Ms Newman on a number of occasions, as far as I am aware." She gave him another smile, this time though, it held a note of something he could not quite identify.

"Oh, I'm sure it has."

The following afternoon, his mother had taken her leave an hour previously, there was yet another ring at his door. Somewhat concerned that unannounced visits were becoming too much of a regularity for his liking, he called "enter" without rising from his seat at the desk in the corner of his living room, where he was correcting some papers.

Cadet Newman stuck her head in the door but did not proceed any further.

"May I come in for a minute, Sir?" there was an odd mixture of determination and dread on her face. Slightly puzzled by this, he gave her a nod, then rose and indicated the couch. It felt rather strange to see her in his quarters, but to his surprise not quite as out of place as he would have expected.

"Please do."

"May I offer you some tea?" He noticed a small parcel in her hand as she made her way to the couch.

"Coffee would be nice." She smiled at him, making him painfully aware of quite how long it had been since she had done so last, and causing him a small pang of regret for having to inform her:

"I am afraid I don't have any coffee, I could visit Captain Pike's quarters, he is …"

"Tea would be lovely, thank you, Sir." She smiled again, and while she looked strangely nervous, the smile appeared to be genuine. She had taken a seat on his couch and was looking around with obvious curiosity. He wondered what her opinion might be of his rather Spartan decoration and furniture.

"Where is your mother?" she inquired "I wanted to apologise properly for my behaviour last night."

"She left approximately 72 minutes ago, Ms Newman." He informed her.

"Oh." She looked a little disconcerted by this information, but proceeded to state:

"In that case I can only apologise to you, Sir. I am terribly sorry for having acted so inappropriately." She shook her head and laughed.

"You are amused." He said, more as a puzzled statement than a proper question.

"A little, Sir. I wonder just how many times the words "apologise" and "inappropriate behaviour" have come up in our conversations. I presume more often than would be considered normal." The corner of his mouth gave a little twitch in amused agreement. When he made his way to the couch and handed her a cup of tea, she did not shrink back but took it with a nod of thanks. His cup looked enormous in her delicate pale green fingers. He allowed himself to sit down on the couch next to her.

"You are better, I presume? You seem more like your usual self again." He observed and was rewarded with another tentative smile.

"Yes, Sir. I was with Dr McCoy this morning and the…am, medication…appears to be doing its job."

"I am very glad to hear this."

He watched her take a small sip from her cup, then wrinkle her nose in some confusion.

"What is this?"

"Oh it is a special Vulcan blend. My mother brought it as a gift."

"Why am I not surprised?" She gave him a small sardonic grin that made his stomach tighten a little.

"Forgive me, I forgot, you are not partial to Vulcan flavours."

She merely shrugged and took another sip.

"As it turns out, some Vulcan things are an acquired taste."

Not entirely sure how to respond to such an enigmatic statement, Spock indicated the small package and asked:

"Are you on your way to Mr Chekov? I believe he has some good news."

"No, Sir. He was ambushed with a party yesterday. This is for you….Happy Birthday." He was rather startled by this. She had in fact come to give him a present?

He was aware that he was staring at her now, but she merely smiled encouragingly and nodded:

"Go on, open it. I promise it won't bite."

Inside the plain wrapped box was a small booklet, made of actual paper, thick and of a dark cream colour. It was sheet music with the words "Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood" written on the cover. On top of it was a small wooden box and when he opened it rather carefully, he noticed a glint of metal inside. Two delicate finger picks, one for the thumb and one for the index finger, were placed on top of a small cushion. They were silvery and showed a delicate leaf motif engraved on the small rings that would fasten them to the fingers. Indicating the music Newman explained:

"It's a transcription of an old Earth song for a seven string diatonic sitar, I thought it should be easy enough to adapt it to the Vulcan lute."

He was still staring, completely at a loss as to how to respond in a socially acceptable and adequately grateful manner. She held her hands curled tightly around her cup and merely smiled at him a little sadly.

"I am not sure how to respond to such a thoughtful and well chosen gift, I most certainly don't believe that I have done anything to deserve such consideration on your part."

"Are you asking me why?' Newman tilted her head to one side, allowing a few stay curls to dip over her shoulder.

"I presume I am."

Newman took a deep breath, then looked at him with the most serious expression he had seen on her face to date.

"I believe I shall remain your student aide next year, Sir?"

"If you have no objections, yes, Ms Newman. I find your unusual take on mathematics and logic surprisingly helpful in effectively illustrating certain theoretical problems to my students. Furthermore, your social abilities are a welcome addition to what have previously been rather terse conversations with students." He hoped he did not show the sense of dread her question had caused.

"You do not wish to continue with your studies?"

"No Sir, I do…wish to continue, …I mean." She took another deep breath, then closed her eyes and sipped her tea for a few agonising moments.

'Sir, I feel it is my duty to inform you of the cause of my recent illness and my subsequent denial and dishonest behaviour in connection with it."

"Cadet?' his stomach was now in knots and a distinct thumping sensation was emitting from just below his ribs, right were his heart was.

"While I agree with your assessment of our relationship as one that should, by all means, be a platonic and professional one, I have unfortunately been experiencing some strong physical reactions to your presence. I have been informed that those are of a sexual nature, and on closer examination of my own feelings, it appears that that is unfortunately true." She took another deep breath then proceeded, avoiding his eyes.

"I could now state that your intellectual prowess, combined with your strong physical presence have subconsciously led me to desire you, but that would be bollocks. That is nowhere near all that it is. I was rather confused by the kiss you gave me at Commander Lennox's memorial, I was as yet not aware of my feelings for you. I do admire you greatly, and even though I find you infuriating at times, I believe that when you are not blinded by ignorance, you are brave, caring and more sympathetic than you give yourself credit for. I see my own confusion and loneliness in you sometimes, and you might not agree, but this is merely my subjective impression. All the arguments you have used in indicating that I would never be your choice of a potential mate still stand, and are an accurate assessment of the situation; I am not requesting an intimate relationship with you, I merely felt that it was the honourable thing to do to inform you of my emotional difficulties before leaving you to decide whether you think it's wise to keep me as your aide….Oh, and I passed out because my pheromone suppressants apparently could not cope with what you were doing to me physically…ehm, physiologically, I mean."

She had spoken so quickly and had obviously been so agitated that she was now panting slightly. Her cheeks were flushed in embarrassment and she was still not looking at him.

"Please Sir, may I be excused?"

She did in fact not wait for his reply but merely jumped to her feet and practically ran out the door, calling: "Have a pleasant summer" over her shoulder.

He was left staring at the spot where she had disappeared.

The Vulcan brain is a complex and finely honed instrument, capable of simultaneously solving several convoluted equations, reciting poetry, strategising, and performing any other number of mentally challenging tasks.

Despite all that, Spock's mind had gone completely blank, with the noted exception of a single word going round and round in his head:

"**Mine!**"

**A/N: Review, pretty, pretty please.**

**I live for those at the moment.**


	11. Summertime

**Howya, ok this is really short, but it sort of is an in-between chapter 'cause it just deals with the two main characters during summer break. I wanted to illustrate some of the differences between Spock and Aureya, not that they aren't obvious. By giving you a glimpse at her family, I hope you can get a better understanding of her. Oh, and yes, she's Canadian, I don't know why, but she is. (Her dad is Irish, so if you never notice any Hiberno English slipping in there, that's why… nothing to do with me. ;))**

**Thank you so much for your reviews, I appreciate all the feedback tons.**

**Just a little note on updating: I'm on holidays at the moment and am too broke to go anywhere, hence the many, many updates. I'm sorry to say that I won't be able to keep this speed up once I'm back at work. (Just so you know) ;p.**

**To miller 330: Not yet, later, I promise.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek or any of its characters.**

_**Aureya**_

Aureya's summer break was anything but relaxing. Her baby brother Stephen had hit the terrible threes with a vengeance, and her baby sister Andrea was teething. So, between a screaming toddler, a wailing baby and her completely frazzled step-mom Stephanie, life was hectic. Not that she actually minded; all that noise and mayhem made it almost impossible to form a coherent thought, and under the current circumstances that was just how she liked it.

She didn't feel guilty or reproachful about the things she had told Commander Spock, she didn't wish she could take them back; the sense of finally having some control over her body again was one of immense relief, and the ability to listen to her brain once more was beyond wonderful. Analysing just how badly her raging hormones had effected her, she had consciously made the decision to stop hiding and lying, and had come clean about her feelings. Quite a feat considering that she had been unaware of them until very recently, and that she already knew exactly how he felt about her. But, she argued to herself, they were both adults and she had a duty to be frank about something that could potentially mar their working relationship.

It was no big deal, she further told herself, had not her own roommate had a crush on him too and come out the other side unscathed? She was in fact rather proud of herself for having made such a mature decision. That did not mean that she was not mortified and immensely worried about having to face the Commander come September. She had played the whole scene of her confession over and over in her mind and was in real danger of doing so again, when Steph entered her room, a red-faced and positively screeching Andrea in her arms, and announced:

"Shoot me, shoot me now!" her comic expression and the baby's insistence on scrunching up her face as far as it would go made Aureya laugh. She hopped off the bed and took Andrea from her mother. She gave a momentary start of surprise at being moved, then took a deep breath and let rip again.

"Where's dad?"

"He ran away….I think he's in the garage." Aureya had to smile at the fact that they were talking as if they were in a club, shouting and gesticulating above the din.

"'Want me to get him?" Andrea stopped screeching halfway through the sentence and Eya ended up shouting for no reason. Both Steph and herself had to giggle. Andrea blew a spit bubble, her lids were drooping, she was clearly exhausted from her little aria. The two women gave each other a doleful look; they knew it wouldn't last long.

Aureya gave Steph a pleading apologetic shrug.

"Oh for goodness sake, go then, he did say something about wanting to put in the new ignition today." Steph reached over and took Andrea from Aureya's arms, her face crinkled in concentration, as she tried to disturb the baby as little as possible, for fear of staring her off again.

"I've been babysitting all week, Steph, don't make me feel guilty for leaving you with the little monsters for an hour or two. And may I remind you, they're your little monsters."

"Oh, I know." Steph sighed in defeat "But why do they have to go Satan's spawn on me at the same time, only three months ago I had two little angels."

Aureya had to laugh at her stepmother then. She had not been entirely convinced that her father's marrying a woman 24 years his junior, a mere 12 years older than herself, had been such a great idea in the beginning, but Steph was the best thing that had ever happened to him. _And_ she had a wicked sense of humour.

---

Aureya found her father hunched over a small engine placed on his workbench. He had his back to the door and was too focused on what he was doing to notice her come in. She contemplated sneaking up on him and going "boo", but then decided that 58 was too much of a risk factor, especially when he had two small children to take care of.

"Hey dad."

"Oh, hey honey…give us those pliers over there, will ya."

Charles Newman did parenting the way other men did male bonding, well, at least in her case. Steph had made damn sure he was cuddly and daddy-like with Stephen and Andrea. But Aureya didn't mind, this was just how things were between them. Steph loved psychoanalysing the whole thing and claimed that Aureya's overly affectionate nature was a direct result of her father's lack thereof, Aureya usually just nodded at this, then went and helped her dad build one of his model flyers.

"What's it like in there?" he briefly nodded in the direction of the house.

"It's the apocalypse." She informed him.

"Ah."

"Steph's making chicken for dinner."

"Mm, good… screwdriver."

She handed it to him.

"So…a boy?"

"Huh?"

"You only had two helpings of ribs yesterday, and you're quieter than usual."

"Oh that…. Yea, sort of."

"Hm… soldering iron."

She complied.

"'He like you?'

"Nope."

"That sucks."

He let her test the flyer first when it was finished, he'd only ever done that twice, once when she had broken her arm falling off a tree in the back garden, the other time when her grandmother had died.

"Incoming call, James Kirk, Iowa."

"On screen. What d'ya want, Jim?" Aureya gave Kirk a wide grin.

"Oh sweetheart, I've missed you too." he was grinning right back.

"So, heard from Gaila, about your little condition thingy…"

Aureya groaned inwardly, then gave him a fake smile, making her eyes wide and asking rather innocently:

"What are you talking about?"

"It's me, isn't it?" He gave her another crooked grin.

"You could just have asked, you know. Now, Gaila, Shrem, and I have discussed things and we've agreed that a fourth…" he could not finish his joke as Aureya's exaggerated expression of shock and disgust sent him into a fit of laughter.

"Idiot." Aureya told him, but she too was fighting the giggles.

When he had composed himself again he told her:

"Actually, I'm just letting you know that we're planning a little visit up North, Bones, Nyo, and I,... she's staying with him for part of the holidays." He gave a suggestive eyebrow wriggle at this, and Aureya smiled.

"So, seeing as we are currently all on the same continent, I thought we should pay you a visit. Canada, ay?"

Rather than giving Jim a straight answer, Aureya did a little happy dance, complete with booty shake, then put on her best poker face and announced:

"'K, whatever."

Kirk just laughed at her; then asked:

"'You heard from Pavel?"

"Sure, 'talk to him every day. He's teaching at some mad advanced maths summer camp in St. Petersburg…'Finally gets to hang out with kids his own age and they're all his students." She was shaking her head but smiling indulgently.

"Oh Jim, I just remembered, we're having our family barbie on the 10th, why don't you guys come up for that?"

"You people up there actually do barbeques?"

"Sure, moose and grizzly are lovely with a tang of smoky flavour." She told him, then rolled her eyes and shook her head again.

"Mind you, family barbie might sound a bit misleading, it's just my dad and step-mom, the little harpies, my uncle Mathew and my cousin Jim… yes, I have a cousin Jim."

Kirk laughed again, then confirmed:

"The 10th it is. Bye sweetie,…oh, and give the whole foursome thing another thought, it'd be cool…multicoloured limbs _everywhere_." He winked.

"Bye Jim. Computer end call."

---

Once Noyota entered the house, the customary chaos of the Newman household crawled into a corner and whimpered for help. Aureya knew what the girl could accomplish in a small one-bedroom apartment, but the fact that she was running the entire house within minutes of arrival still fascinated her. Bones and Steph were sitting on the kitchen table, both holding a beer and a child each, watching in awe as Noyota bossed Aureya around the kitchen.

"No, I need those onions chopped much more finely, Eya. And take the marinated meat out of the fridge now so it can get to room temperature."

"Yes, Sir, right away, Sir." She gave her a fake salute then stomped over to the fridge.

Cousin Jim made an appearance to tell them the barbeque would be nice and ready in another 15 minutes, she told him "ugh" in answer. Men and open flames always reminded her of cave people.

"How come you're not out there poking at the fire and grunting like the rest of them?"

She asked Bones.

He merely shrugged and pointed at Uhura:

"'Trying to get a good idea of what exactly it is I'm getting myself into."

Noyota threw him a dirty look over her shoulder; he just gave her the sweetest smile imaginable.

"Now then." Not-cousin Jim was standing in the door clapping his hands together,

"Are you ready to learn how to make the famous Kirk potato salad?"

"Need really fine onions? They're practically mush? Mmmmmm." Uhura gave Aureya a little whack on the bum.

The fact that Kirk could actually cook amused her to no end, watching him do some fancy-shmancy stuff with cucumbers before adding them to his salad just made her giggle.

Within another 20 minutes they were all seated around the big table out in the garden, laden with more food then three times their number could ever possibly eat. Aureya was having a rather animated discussion with both Jims about classic cars, when her father, quite out of character, tapped his glass. He earned himself some very surprised stares from his family for this.

"Ahm,…I just wanted to say how nice it is to meet you three, Aureya has been telling us so much about her friends and it's great that we get to meet some of them."

_Oh God, no._

"Aureya, em, or Eya, is it?, has had such a hard time making friends as a child and it's just so good to know that she has found people who can see her for who she really is. Thank you."

_Ah crap, dad, why?_

Not to be outdone by his brother, her uncle Matt got up and announced:

"Yea, we've had some hard times with that kid. Jim, remember the time you came home all beat up cause some little brat had been calling Aureya "peppermint" and you had to go and kick the shit out of him?...Well, it's not like that anymore… Hm, to friends and family." He raised his glass dramatically.

_Oh well, what's family for, other than to embarrass you?_

"To friends and family." They all echoed.

_**Spock**_

He would rise at 4 a.m. every morning, meditate for two hours, then exercise, shower, get dressed and have breakfast, which invariable consisted of herbal tea, fruit and cubes of plant protein. He would then dedicate precisely two and a half hours to research, before exercising again, having another shower and then taking his lunch in the mess hall. He occasionally met Captain Pike there, but quite regularly ate alone, reading some academic journal on his pad. Raw salad with a glass of juice and some steamed grains, no fruit.

In the afternoon he would continue his research for a further three hours, then spend two hours preparing his classes for the upcoming year. He would return to the mess hall for dinner, again, he was occasionally accompanied by Captain Pike. Steamed vegetables, a puree of pulses, fruit salad and two glasses of water. In the evening he would dedicate two hours to reading, for anthropological purposes rather than pleasure, then he would practice the lute for precisely one hour and 20 minutes, finally he would conclude his day with another two hours of meditation; invariably in this order and to those specific temporal measurements, unchanging, always precisely the same, consistent.

He had noticed a recent habit of extending his lute practice slightly; he attributed this, however, to a conscious decision on his part to not allow himself to fall too much out of practice. Not that he had been in danger of doings so, he merely wished to safeguard against such an eventuality.

The gift of the small metal finger picks Newman had bestowed on him, and the fact that he was continually reminded of her whenever he played, had not influenced his decision in the slightest.

He used the time during his practice to mentally prepare for the conversation he would have to have with her on her return to the academy. He had as yet to decide whether the circumstances she had presented him with allowed for her to remain his student aide, or whether it would be in her best interest for him to dismiss her. Beyond that, he had the firm intention of clarifying that he had meant no insult and had not been stating his subjective opinion of her when he had told her she was in no way suited as a potential mate for him; he had merely listed facts. He believed her to have understood this; he wanted to be entirely certain, however, that he had caused no offence. The fact that he appeared to still be suffering some rather violent physical reactions to her would also have to be addressed. Beyond that, he was somewhat at a loss as to how to communicate all that he had to say in an anthropologically appropriate manner. Not having been in any situation remotely similar, and entirely unwilling to contact his mother about this particular situation, he decided to accept Captain Pike's invitation for dinner off campus and attempt to seek advice in the most general and non-specific way possible.

---

"Has any one of your students ever indicated any romantic feelings towards you, Christopher?" Captain Pike had just taken a bite of salmon and spinach, which promptly re-exited his mouth and landed on his plate with a soft thud.

"What?" his superior officer looked stunned for a short period of time, before something that would appear to be amusement began to permeate his features.

"Which one?"

"Any one of your students." Spock answered.

"No, I mean which one of yours?"

"I do not follow your statement, please clarify."

"If someone asks you: "has this ever happened to you?" it usually means it has happened to them. So I am asking you which one of your students has the hots for you."

"Ah, I appear to have been a lot less subtle in my approach than I had hoped." Spock tilted his head slightly to the side, indicating concern.

"You will understand that I cannot name the student under any circumstances."

"Of course. I'm sorry Spock. In answer, yes, it has happened on a number of occasions, it's quite a tricky business."

"Indeed. How did you proceed?"

"That depends on the situation."

Spock raised both eyebrows.

"Not what I meant, Spock. It depends on whether the student in question has ulterior motives or is genuine in his or her affection…ahm, can I assume it is a her?"

"You can."

"Is there an option of the student attempting to further her academic career, or improve her grades?

"No, that situation is not feasible, she is an excellent student."

"Has she indicated any interest in a relationship?"

"No, she has not."

"Ok, that's a little weird, what exactly is the problem?"

"I am not entirely sure how to behave in an appropriate manner."

"Just act normal."

"I would not wish for her to believe that I am simply dismissing her feelings."

"Oh." Pike looked momentarily puzzled, then a large grin spread across his face.

"You like her."

"I hold affection for many of my students, even if I do not show it."

"That's not what I meant." Pike sighed in mild exasperation.

"If she were not your student, would you consider a romantic relationship?"

"No." Pike looked a little taken aback at his rather abrupt answer.

"Why not?"

"There are many factors beyond the student teacher taboo that would present insurmountable obstacles. Cultural and physical incompatibility, social disgrace on my part, diversity of interests and mannerisms, behaviour, and so forth."

"So you _do_ like her." Pikes grin began to mildly irritate Spock; his companion's almost childlike fascination with their conversation topic was not what he had hoped for.

"I may have a certain regard for her." He conceded at last.

"And you are physically attracted to her?" Pike appeared to be almost bouncing on his chair, Spock's obvious discomfort seemed to be a source of immense amusement to him.

"I cannot be certain of that."

"I'm sorry?" Pike had stopped smiling and just stared at him in confusion.

"I'm not that versed in Vulcan anatomy, but I was assuming you were a guy."

"If you are currently making a joke at my expense, I must inform you that the exact meaning of it escapes me." Spock noted that he sounded mildly indignant.

"Wow, I'm not sure if I am joking anymore. How do I put this?...Am…Is there a perceivable physical reaction to her close proximity?" Pike looked rather pleased with himself for the phrasing of his question.

"There is, but I fail to understand why?"

"What? …, ahm, "why"?"

"There is a set standard for beauty, for what is considered desirable in a Vulcan mate: Tall slender form, elegance, poise, immaculate appearance. Just as there are personal qualities equally as desirable: restraint, self-control, a quiet and thoughtful disposition; these are the things I would expect to attract me to a woman." Pike had listened quietly as he spoke, but as he had reached the end of his sentence he had donned the biggest smile yet. Hands folded casually in front of his face, he leaned towards Spock almost conspiratorially and whispered:

"And Cadet Newman isn't really any of those, is she?"

Spock took note of the fact that general, non-specific inquiries were apparently not his forte.

**A/N: Review please.**


	12. Take Two

**A/N: This chapter was a little rushed because I'm off to the country for a few days and I wanted to post it before I went. Some of the scenes are a little bitty, because they just set up second year and are meant to give you an idea of some of the changes. Hope you like it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek or any of its characters.**

Aureya woke, for the second time in three days, with a warm body beside her. Managing not to scream this time, she merely gave Kirk a hard kick and sent him flying to the floor.

"What?' he rubbed his leg where her foot had connected and looked at her accusingly.

"Why are you in my bed again?"

He merely shrugged, then indicated the bed next to hers:

"Not enough room over there."

Gaila was sprawled sideways across the bed, arms and legs extended like a bug, mouth slightly ajar and snoring softly.

"Well _now_ there would be." Kirk added.

At this point they heard a soft humming from the kitchenette, where P'Grell was apparently making coffee, wearing little more than a thong.

"Clothes, Shrem, damn it!" Aureya shrieked.

"Why?" he seemed completely unconcerned.

"'Cause I'm here." She clarified.

""Nothing you haven't seen before." He shrugged.

"Plus, I'm warm." He said this as he poured four cups.

_How could Uhura do this to her, how could she leave her like this?_

Gaila gave a startled little grunt and sat up, looking around a little bleary-eyed before a slow smile spread across her face.

"Mmmm, I smell coffee."

Shrem had put the four cups on a tray and made his way back to his bed, handing Gaila the first cup, then leaned over and gave the other two to Aureya. She just rolled her eyes to heaven, gave Kirk a shrug and handed him his coffee. He grinned and sat back down on her bed, at least he was wearing a T-shirt and boxers.

"One would think you two had nowhere to go, really, did they not assign you any quarters?' Aureya's annoyed inflection did not even fool her.

"Oh come on, my new roommate is Denobulan, awake all hours of the night and thumping about the place like some of us only need the occasional bit of sleep as well." Gaila made silly puppy eyes at her.

"I like it much better here, all my favourite people in one room." She did not even sound as if she were lying.

"Fine, fine. If you can get Shrem to wear clothes around the house and keep Jim out of my bed, I'll consider forgiving you. …not _you_, though." She pointed an irritated finger at Kirk.

"Gaila's not very good at keeping anyone _in_ their clothes." Kirk pointed out.

Aureya gave a mock sob and threw herself down on her bed in an overly dramatic gesture:

"Why me? Why did Nyo have to go off and play house with Bones? Why? Oh, why?"

"Ouch, Eya, you hurt my feelings there." P'Grell stated, but his grin made the statement anything but convincing.

"Put on some clothes!"

"No."

---

Aureya had been back at the Academy for almost a week and had so far managed to avoid any contact with Commander Spock. She supposed she was, as it was called, "playing chicken". Considering that he had not made any attempt to notify her about class schedules and office hours, she assumed he was playing too. She came rather close to visiting his office once, having decided that enough was enough and that she was being ridiculous, when she had whimped out at the last minute, and had made her way to Chekov's poky little office two floors down instead.

"Nice, Ensign Chekov, very nice." She told him.

"No, it's not, it's tiny." But the proud smile on his face indicated that he did not really mean it.

"And your quarters are great, no bloody roommate. Staff accommodation and everything."

They'd held their first chess meet the previous evening, at Chekov's new quarters in Accommodation Building 18, and Aureya had to admit she rather liked the cosy little bed-sit Chekov had clearly spent some time and consideration on.

"That bad?"

"Ah, well…" Aureya shrugged, a little loath to say anything too negative, since she really did like P'Grell.

"You are alvays velcome at my place, you know that, right.?"

"Thanks Pavel, I appreciate that. I think if I wake up to the sight of Shrem's naked blue ass one more time, I'll scream. And I swear Kirk is a sleep groper even if he claims he isn't."

Chekov's office door had been left open to allow for some light and air to circulate in the rather cramped space; they were still both a little startled by someone clearing their throat.

Commander Spock was standing in the door, hands behind his back, giving Aureya a rather puzzled look.

_Oh shit, he'd heard that._

"Cadet Newman." He gave her a curt nod.

"I hope you've had a pleasant summer."

"Yes, thank you, Sir. Ahm… likewise."

Her throat had gone terribly dry and she almost croaked the last word.

"Thank you." Another nod. Apparently finished with his conversation with her, he turned to Pavel.

"Mr Chekov, I have prepared some material you might find useful, I was going to discuss a possible schedule for your classes, but I shall return at a more opportune moment." He handed the younger man a small pad, then gave them both yet another quick nod by way of farewell.

"Oh, Sir," Aureya stopped him, her heart was threatening to slam a hole in her chest, "will you be requiring my assistance this year?"

Half turning from the door, he merely gave her a quick glance without really looking at her, then announced:

"Indeed, I will. Please come to my office on Monday at 1600 hours to discuss your schedule." With this he left. Aureya stood there as if she had just been slapped in the face; well at least she still had that job.

"Ok, that vas odd, ewen for the two of you. Did you haf a fight vith the Commander?"

"Not quite." Aureya told him while holding her head in both hands.

"It's complicated." Her voice was in serious danger of breaking.

"It alvays is vith you two." Chekov sounded a littler resigned.

The next morning Shrem and Aureya headed for their first Engineering class of their second year with a sense of trepidation. They had had three different substitutes for the final months of first year, and had yet to meet Lennox's permanent replacement. The unfortunate person, whoever he or she might be, sure had their work cut out for them, Aureya noted, as the entire group of cadets filing into the theatre looked about as willing to be impressed as a bunch of jellyfish.

She was about to point out to Shrem that the theatre was unusually warm, which she had no doubt he had noticed, when a tiny Tellarite, three scarves wrapped over his black uniform, marched straight past them down to the podium.

"It's freezing in here, how do you people stand it?' were the first words out of his mouth.

"I'm Lieutenant Gnall, I will be your Engineering instructor for this year. You will find practical workshop group assignments on the virtual notice board as well as a list of the three Engine-room labs. I've had a good look at your schedule for last year and I have to tell you that I'm not pleased. I'll have to do the whole dark matter thing all over again, and judging from the grade average you all achieved I'll have to go real slow."

"Bloody Tellarites." P'Grell whispered in her ear. He had a point too, it had taken Lieutenant Gnall a mere minute to exhibit all three of the characteristics most commonly associated with his species: he was cold, he complained, and he had insulted them.

"You." He was now pointing at a cadet in the front row of the theatre.

"What exactly did you cover as far as engine core maintenance is concerned, my predecessor's notes are sketchy at best."

The poor cadet looked a little flustered, and cast his eyes around as if to look for help:

"Ahhh, I'm not sure, Sir…"

"Oh that is just brilliant! No idea, have you? Great!... And that's Ma'am, Cadet."

The entire theatre gasped.

"What? That ignorant, are you? I'll have to have a word with your Anthropology instructor. It's just plain shameful to be unaware of the gender characteristics of one of the four founding species of the Federation." She stroked her beard thoughtfully at this, her three fingers combing the long sand coloured strands as she went.

Despite the fact that Lieutenant Gnall was an undisputed bitch, she was quite brilliant. She reminded Aureya of a bulldog who could solve sub-spatial equations: Viscous and ingenious at the same time. Somehow Aureya couldn't quite bring herself to dislike her.

Gnall wasted no time and had them all file out of the theatre and took them to the large simulation room used for the Engine-room labs. Only second and third year students were allowed here and they had to hold it in her favour that she had brought them here the very first day. Her obvious enthusiasm began to seep out as she talked them through some of the main tasks they would be expected to master by the end of the year. Aureya noticed that she was not the only cadet with a tentative smile on her face.

"What are you all grinning like a bunch of idiots for?' the lieutenant roared at them, but was not particularly effective in making them stop.

On the way back to their room Aureya shared her little dog theory with P'Grell, who nodded and said: "Yea, she barks, alright, but does she bite?"

---

The topic was readdressed at the first meeting of their knitting cycle.

"… and then she storms right up to me and starts berating me about how I've clearly neglected my duty and failed to elaborate on her species finer distinguishing features, it was very sweet, really." Taylor stated, recounting her first meeting with Lieutenant Gnall.

"Sweet?" Uhura gave her a sceptical look.

"It's how Tellarites make friends, you see, by initiating an argument."

"So, what did you tell her?" Aureya asked while she was battling with a type of slipstitch, and began to huff so much in frustration that Shrem leaned overt and knit it for her.

"I told her she was a pompous fool for being so self-righteous and that no one cared a jot if she was a boy or a girl."

"Awww, how nice of you?" Gaila hazarded.

Taylor gave her a self-satisfied smile to indicate that it had indeed been _very_ nice of her.

"And for the record," she added, "the difference between male and female Tellarites, when fully clothed, is a small knot on the points of the ears that is absent in females but present in males."

"How could we have missed _that_?" Aureya noted, giving P'Grell a sarcastic grin.

He just shrugged.

"So, Noyota, how's cohabitation suiting you?" At Taylor's question the entire group turned to Uhura and gave her a sickly sweet smile.

"Awful," she stated, "he's a slob and has no concept of personal space." She was grinning from ear to ear and made it abundantly clear that while she was telling the truth, she was also loving every minute of it. Shaking her head slightly to get the dopy grin off her face, she added:

"But I'm boring now, all settled down for the moment, 'anyone got any good stories?"

"Always." Gaila responded and the entire group groaned in protest.

"Fine then." She said, rather deflated.

"I broke up with my boyfriend." Cadet Chapel pointed out "But that's not interesting at all, we just sort of drifted apart, no arguments, no nothing. Just "let's end this." and "Ok."" She sounded more upset at the lack of a good story to tell than at the loss of a boyfriend. She was duly ignored as Taylor turned to Aureya.

"What about you, sweetheart?"

"Sheesh, Miriam, why always me? Nothing, as usual,… even though I _can_ tell you that Shrem has a birthmark on his left butt cheek and that Jim Kirk talks in his sleep… weird stuff too." She realised she had sounded a little too harsh with her first statement, one could almost call it frustrated, so she had added the second bit to lighten the mood. No one seemed to have noticed, though.

"I call it Edmund… the birthmark, I mean." P'Grell informed them.

"That's extremely disturbing, Shrem," Taylor said "that was my third husband's name,… I should probably check if it bears any resemblance to him." She gave the young man a wicked grin.

"Oh Miriam, always with the empty promises." P'Grell joked back.

"Ok, so I get the Shrem thing," Chapel stated "I had an Andorian roommate last year and it was impossible to keep some clothes on her at home, too warm and all that, but how the heck do you know about Kirk?"

"Don't even ask." Aureya groaned.

"'Not a story either." Gaila informed them.

Due to form, that Saturday evening just after 0800 hours, what were now effectively her three roommates, came home a little worse for wear. Aureya had decided to have a nice evening in, Chekov had his first lecture on Monday and was not up for a night out, and she really didn't feel like going drinking with the fearsome threesome. She had just put on her favourite casual wear, her pyjama bottoms with the small green cartoon crocodiles on them and her dad's old grey sweater, and settled in to read a book, when all three of her inebriated friends practically fell through the door.

"Shhhhhhhh!!!" Kirk made that infuriating noise drunk people use to indicate that they knew they were being too loud.

Gaila just giggled as she tried to remove her top.

_Oh crap._

"Oy, guys, I'm right here."

Kirk dropped on the bed next to her and just said:

"Hello" with the most idiotic grin on his face, then curled up and began to snore almost immediately.

"Are you serious?" she gave him a hard shove but merely got a little grunt in reply.

Gaila too, had given up on undressing and was falling asleep fully clothed on Shrem's bed. He in turn was in the kitchen, handling a frying pan and making more noise than one man should technically be able to make.

"Ok, that's it!" Aureya announced, grabbing her pillow from right underneath Jim's head and, having noticed that it was raining outside, reached for her rubber boots. As she marched out the door she could hear Shrem calling after her:

"Eya, honey, where are you going?"

"Chekov's!" she called back.

"'K then, have fun."

She felt like strangling him.

By the time she reached Building 18 she was completely soaked, she cursed at the fact that she had been so pissed off that she had forgotten to bring a coat. As she squelched into to turbo lift, her hair hanging into her face and obscuring her view, she noticed too late that it already held two occupants.

"Sirs." She felt like a complete idiot standing to attention in her getup; the sweater, which was far too big for her, had slipped off one shoulder and she was debating whether it constituted a breach of decorum to shove it back up.

"At ease, cadet." Captain Pike announced, the most bizarrely amused smile on his face. She tried to rearrange her clothes and push the hair out of her face but with little success. Commander Spock who was standing slightly behind Pike merely stared at her.

"Is that a pillow, Cadet?" Pike asked, appearing almost unable to contain a grin.

"Ahm…yes, Sir."

"You do realise that this is staff accommodations?' he continued.

"Yes, Sir." As he made no reply she felt it necessary to elaborate.

"I'm on my way to Cad…, Ensign Chekov's place, Sir."

"Ensign Chekov?" Pike looked vaguely disappointed and threw Commander Spock a peculiar look.

"Yes, Sir, I have an open invitation to his couch…since my roommate's girlfriend's boyfriend, or whatever the hell he is, has recently taken to sleeping in my bed… while I'm in it." She figured information overload might just wipe that weird look off his face. It worked, he looked confused. Before he had a chance to say anything, Commander Spock spoke for the first time:

"You do not share accommodations with Cadet Uhura?" his voice sounded a little strained.

"No Sir, she has requested cohabitational rights with Cadet McCoy. I live with Cadet P'Grell."

"Uuuh." Pike gave a sympathetic hiss. "I had an Andorian roommate once… always naked."

"Tell me about it, Sir."

The lift door opened with a ping and Aureya stood to attention one more time, not able to help herself she looked straight at Commander Spock for the first time. He looked positively ill, as if he were about to keel over.

"Dismissed." Pike told her and she made her way into the corridor, holding on to her last bit of self-control to stop hitting herself over the head with the pillow before the lift door closed again.

Sunday brought yet another first meeting of many at Uhura and Bones' place. "Operation Take down the Kobayashi Maru" was in session from 1500 hours well into the evening. All three of Aureya's 'roommates' had apologised profusely and swore it wouldn't happen again, and since they really wouldn't have the time once classes started properly on Monday, she believed them and found it in her heart to forgive them.

By about 1700 hours, Bones and Kirk had just brought back some food, they were still discussing moral issues of even attempting to hack the Maru.

Chekov, who'd decided that if he went over his lecture notes one more time, he would go crazy, was starting to get rather upset:

"It's enough just to ffigure it out. Ve don't haf to actually do it… connect it, make it crash, I mean. If ve know ve've solwed it, then that's that." He had made that point a couple of times now.

"Where's the fun in that? And what's the point if no one knows?' Kirk pointed out, also not for the first time.

"I'm with Pavel on this." Noyota stated, as she busied herself picking bits of food and napkins off the floor. "And what are you guys, animals?" she added in frustration as she found a piece of pizza under the couch.

"Oh you two are just all bothered by the fact that we're going against your beloved Commander Spock." Shrem pointed out.

"I'm a proper member of staff now." Chekov said in his defence "I don't think it vould look wery good if I sabotaged my colleagues."

"Attaching the access modem with the reconfigured codes would involve breaking into the simulation building, and that's a proper crime. … and that would have to be Shrem and me,… I'm really not sure…." Aureya sounded not particularly eager.

"Oh come on. Eya, I would have thought you of all people would want to give one to that pointy eared bastard."

_Depends on how you interpret "give one to"._

"Yea, but not at the cost of our careers, Jim" was what she said out loud.

"Can we at least try and see how far we'd actually get with this?" Gaila inquired.

Both Chekov and Aureya rolled their eyes in defeat and said:

"Fine" in unison.

---

Aureya did not retain anything from Pike's first lecture of the year, only that it had something to do with first contact. She was more nervous than she would have thought possible, and kept telling herself that she was overreacting. At lunch she hardly spoke, which was not a problem, because Chekov was just as bad as she was, since his first Introductory M&L lecture was at 1500 hours. As a result they were both sitting there, poking at their food and fidgeting.

Aureya had offered to listen in on Pavel's lecture, but he had asked her not to, which was just as well because it would have made her late for her appointment. As things stood, she was outside Commander Spock's office at 1542 hours, far too early. She was just contemplating heading down to Pavel's office, he'd given her the access code, when Spock rounded the corner.

She stood to attention.

"Sir."

"You are early, Cadet Newman."

"Yes, Sir."

"You could have waited inside, you have the combination, do you not?"

"Ahm, I wasn't sure that under the circumstances…"

He quizzically raised an eyebrow at this as he punched the numeral sequence into the lock.

"The circumstances, Cadet?'

"Ahm…., well, I didn't want to seem stalkerish… or anything." She felt like a complete fool again.

"You are implying that I have an altered perception of personal space due to your elaborating on your feelings for me?'

_Wow, you sure know how to talk to a girl._

"Yes, Sir."

"I do not. Please, enter." He led the way into his office and indicated a seat next to the window to her.

"I have prepared a detailed outline of your responsibilities for this year as well as given you a comprehensive overview of what I will be expecting from you in your own studies, please take a look." With this he handed her a small pad, his fingers brushing hers quite accidentally. She took in a short breath and hoped he had not seen her blush. Studying the schedule intently, she finally looked back up and said:

"Thank you, Sir."

He gave her a curt not.

"Do you need my assistance with anything else or am I dismissed?" she tried very hard not to let her voice betray the turmoil of emotions currently raging in her head. Confusion, anger, desire, affection, disappointment, it was all a little too much for her.

The Commander did not answer her immediately; he appeared to be intently analyzing her face. Aureya had to fight yet another blush.

"I would like to discuss the conversation we had prior to the summer break."

Aureya took a deep breath, then made herself answer:

"I was anticipating this, I'm not sure, though, if I want to discuss it, Sir."

"You wish to retract your statement?' he did not give her any indication of whether he wanted her to do so or not. She decided to stick to the truth.

"No, Sir, I am merely uncomfortable with what I perceive to be a humiliating situation. Despite my appearance, I am anything but experienced when it comes to men, and I would have much preferred to have had a more, …. average experience of first,… ahm…, infatuation, Sir."

_Ha, knife wielding Klingons were a piece of cake compared to this!_

"I see." He looked rather thoughtful for a moment, then he too took a deep breath and added:

"I believe it is customary for me to elaborate on my own feelings in response to what you have told me previously?"

"Ahm, Sir?... I believe you've made your feelings abundantly clear. You listed my shortcomings and…"

"I listed the reasons why a romantic relationship between us is impossible, Cadet, as indeed it is. That, however, is not quite the same thing as my feelings. I am sure you perceive the difference."

"Sir….?"

Aureya noticed a small nervous shake spreading up her legs and felt immensely grateful to be sitting down.

"My analysis of my own subconscious appears to have been flawed, I attribute this in part to my own genetic make-up, and in part to you as a person. I do experience some rather marked reactions to both your physical presence as well as the mere sight of you and must conclude that these reactions indicate sexual desire. This is only compounded by the strong feelings of anger and rage I have experienced on a number of occasions where I noted a potential rival."

He was standing behind his desk, his hands folded behind his back, just as if he were elaborating on a particular mathematical concept.

"While I believe that we have had our share of difficulties on a personal level, most notably in the early stages of our acquaintance, and I have on occasion found you to elicit strong emotional responses that were anything but positive, I must confess that I find you stimulating company. Your particular type of intelligence, your straightforward approach to problems, are things I greatly admire. Some of your other qualities I find myself drawn to without explanation. Your affectionate and overly demonstrative habits, your propensity for inappropriate language and your constant need to touch and move, appear to elicit a positive response in me I cannot quite comprehend." He gave her a little nod at this, as if to indicate that any comments would be welcome right about now.

"……………………………………." Aureya's mouth was hanging open and besides her heart, beating furiously all the way up her throat, she didn't think a lot would come out of it any time soon.

Seeing as he was not likely to get a response, the Commander continued:

"Like yourself, I believe that a relationship of any romantic nature is entirely out of the question. Quite apart from the fact that you are my student, I have Vulcan social norms to adhere to, and to anyone not familiar with you in the way that I am, the choice of an Orion mate, even if only part, would be seen as a sign of something akin to mental feebleness and complete moral degradation.

Furthermore, I have a bonded mate on Vulcan, who, while not my wife, I will be expected to marry at some point in the future."

Aureya's knees were by now shaking violently, and she was trying her best not to pass out from sheer shock.

"Why are you telling me this?" her voice was a fragile whisper, cracking twice in the short question.

"I wanted to repay your honesty with my own. … And I wanted to let you know that I return your feelings, however inappropriate they may be." He was actually unable to look at her as he said this.

She managed to rise from her seat and took a few steps closer to him.

"What do you want?" her tone was almost accusing, desperate.

He shook his head, still looking at the floor.

"I am not certain…. I observe you when you interact with your friends, … I believe I envy them… I … I would very much like to have you smile at me the way you smile at them." His voice had gradually lost in volume as he had spoken, he appeared well aware of quite how preposterous his request was.

"You want me to be your friend? … After what you've just told me?" she detected a slight note of hysteria in her voice.

"Do you have a better suggestion, Ms Newman?"

_Shit! Shit! Shit!_

" … No, I don't."

**A/N: Review please.**


	13. Platonic

**Ok so I'm going to redo some of the scenes from the last chapter from Spock's POV, you guys don't mind, do you? ;p**

**I didn't have the time to write a proper author's note last time, so I completely forgot to say a general thank you for your reviews. (Thank you!) With no proper internet access, I'll only be able to respond to reviews for the last chapter now. So don't be upset if the update and response happen at the same time.**

**Some of you were wondering what was wrong with Spock in the turbo lift, so I'm making it very clear. (There is a bit of repetition in this chapter as a result, I hope you'll forgive me)**

**I hope Pike's interest is explained as well, since he isn't rooting for them as such,…**

**To miller330: In this one! (telepathic touch thingy was miller330 suggestion)**

**Gnall was born out of the necessity to give Aureya and Shrem a really good teacher, so they will become really good engineers, that's why she's though. (She isn't meant to replace Lennox in any way.)**

**This is going to be quite an emotional chapter (or very Mills and Boon as my BF calls it, grrrrr!), and I hope that Spock stays believable all the same.**

**Ok, on with it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek or any of its characters.**

During dinner, Christopher had once more tried to elicit further information from Spock. He seemed so gleefully pleased with the absurd emotional turmoil of his colleague, Spock found it rather difficult not to feel resentment towards his friend.

"I find your lack of sympathy rather hurtful, Christopher, I believe you are treating this like some sort of amusing narrative, where unlikely events equal your own personal enjoyment."

"I am sorry Spock, but you have to admit that the idea of a Vulcan and an Orion… well it's just… "

"Precisely."

"Yes, well, I suppose I can see how it's not that funny from where you're standing."

Spock gave him a rather stern look, then rose to indicate he had had quite enough conversation for one evening. He had not discussed Newman's recent allusions to not one but two other males with Pike, not because he would not find some advice helpful, but because he knew his friend would gain too much enjoyment from such a conversation. He had to remind himself that the allusions had been overheard out of context, and even if Cadet Newman was involved with either or both young men, it was no business of his. He had no claim on her. He had also desisted from discussing Newman's rather unnerving ability to, while appealing to his human side and rendering him too emotional in this manner, had succeeded in dredging to the surface much more dangerous, much less human inclinations. The complexities of Vulcan emotions were certainly not a topic for dinner conversation.

Spock was still deep in thought when they both reached the accommodation building and entered the turbo lift; Christopher had done him the kindness of not involving him in conversation. As the doors were about to close, Spock's ears picked up a rather peculiar sound and a moment later Cadet Newman waded into the lift, soaking wet and dressed in the most unusual outfit. She was wearing thin white cotton trousers with indistinct green blobs, rubber boots and a grey pullover more than twice her size. Her hair was falling around her face in wet brown ringlets and she was clutching an equally drenched pillow under her arm. She had only just notice the two of them and stood to attention. As she did so, the ridiculously oversized garment slipped off one of her shoulders, revealing not only part of her left arm, but also the topmost curve of her breast.

Spock was suddenly rather grateful for the solid bulk of Pike's form between himself and Newman, for as his eyes travelled further over her body, taking in how closely the wet sweater clung to her shape, revealing through the two clearly visible little buds on her chest that she was not wearing anything underneath, he found his mental functions deteriorating rather rapidly. He pressed one hand against the lift's back wall to steady himself, as Pike told Newman to stand at ease. She then proceeded to making things much more difficult for him by moving. As she attempted to push her top back into place she leaned forward and accidentally granted both men a brief but clear view of her breasts; she did not realise this and as she struggled with her damp curls, looked mortified only in the way appropriate to her apparel. Spock groaned inwardly, not entirely sure what had a worse effect on him, her breasts or her brightly flushed cheeks, they appeared to affect him in completely different ways. Pike, of course, could not help himself and had to involve Newman in conversation. As expected, she did not apologise for her appearance, she merely stared Pike right in the eye, and despite the fact that she looked immensely uncomfortable, gave him a look that simply said "what?".

Her rather bizarre explanation of what she was doing in the staff accommodation building at 2028 hours on a Saturday night, roused Spock a little from his stupor.

"… I live with Cadet P'Grell." She informed them; suddenly he hated P'Grell. Relieved that she was clearly not involved in a sexual relationship with either him or Kirk, he still felt rage at the idea of his constant near proximity to Newman.

_What an illogical reaction._

He admonished himself.

_Kirk, yes he hated Kirk. Had she not mentioned something like 'sleep groping'? He most definitely hated Kirk._

As Pike dismissed her and she looked straight at him, a drop of water making its way from her cheek down her neck and then below the collar of the grey garment, he had to grasp the wall again. Watching her make her way down the corridor, and imagining that Chekov had the privilege of opening his door to that sight, he made the most illogical emotional faux pas yet.

_He hated Chekov._

He had to stop this, he liked Chekov he told himself, and knew it to be true.

It was only now that he noticed that the turbo lift was on its way down again. He gave Pike a slightly puzzled look.

"You need a drink." Pike informed him. He was about to protest when his friend added:

"Heck, I need a drink, and I'm not even crazy about the girl."

"I don't think my mental faculties…" Spock began, but gave up halfway through the sentence, merely nodding at Pike in defeat.

---

Christopher took him to his favourite bar, which beside the Green Wolf was only the second such establishment Spock had ever visited. The sleek clean-line glass and metal interior was a far cry from the dingy wooden and fabric covered disintegration of the Green Wolf. As Pike gave him a questioning smile he thought it appropriate to nod his approval.

"Nice, isn't it?'

"Indeed."

Taking a seat at the bar and indicating the stool beside him for Spock, Pike ordered two shots of bourbon.

"So?' he asked.

Spock merely raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"What are you going to do?'

"Do about what? Please be more specific." Spock could hear the small note of irritation that had crept into his voice.

"You have it bad, you know that, right?'

"Christopher, you are aware of the fact that colloquialisms cause me some difficulty, yet you insist on availing of them in conversation with me. Why?"

"I'm sorry, it's rather difficult to talk about these things in a plain and straightforward way. I'll try though… What are you going to do about Cadet Newman, you are clearly infatuated with her, even I can tell, and I'm usually useless at reading you." He downed his drink in one after having finished the sentence, and Spock found it prudent to do likewise.

"There is nothing I can do, Christopher. Or do you have any suggestions?"

"Not really,… you're fucked."

"Thank you."

Pike merely shrugged and ordered another two drinks.

"You'll have to talk to her though. Or the tension thing is just going to make things worse. Come to some sort of agreement… within the limits of what is permissible, of course."

"That is a rather complicated matter, there are two sets of rules to take into account." Spock informed him.

"Starfleet is the least of my worries in this regard."

"Oh, you mean all that Vulcan superiority bullshit?" Pike did not even look apologetic as he said this.

"I would prefer it if you did not call it that. But I, indeed, have social obligations and family expectations to consider. I would never do Cadet Newman the discourtesy of dismissing her as a mere sexual object, I have given up on deluding myself in this regard. I do, however, not have the option of contemplating her as a proper mate, my fate in this was sealed when I was a very young child. I already have a bonded mate on Vulcan."

"Wait… what?... you're _married_?" Pike looked mildly scandalised.

"No, … not yet, at least. T'Pring is my intended, as well as my bond-mate for the time being. I have already disappointed and shamed my father enough with my decision to choose Starfleet over the Vulcan Science Academy, and I have seen just what social stigma can do to a family, I would never sacrifice my family's regard for my own selfish desires." Spock had not even noticed that he had by now finished his third drink, but seeing as Pike had just placed a fourth glass before him, he concluded that it must be so.

"But you don't like her, that girl on Vulcan, I mean?" Pike's face had taken on a much softer expression; Spock presumed it was sympathy.

"That is inconsequential, there is no need for me to like her, I hardly know her. There have been 'meetings' of a sort between us, but those did not involve talking, I have no real opinion of her." Spock was aware of how the alcohol was affecting his restraint, he was sharing information he would not have divulged sober, but he could not bring himself to care.

"So what do you want,… from Newman, I mean?"

Spock merely raised his eyebrows at Pike who seemed to get a little flustered at this.

"Besides that, ahm… I mean, obviously,… but other than that."

"Can I be completely frank with you, Christopher?'

"Please."

"Anything. I would take anything, I suppose."

"Then you need to talk to her."

Spock merely nodded and reached for his drink, he could suddenly understand why Lennox had overindulged the way he had, it was rather pleasant not to have to think so much, for once.

"You want me to be your friend? … After what you've just told me?" she looked at him with sheer disbelief in her eyes.

"Do you have a better suggestion, Ms Newman?"

He had meant to answer less harshly, less functionally, but he was too overwhelmed to contemplate leaving the comfort zone that was logic.

"…No, I don't. I don't have a better suggestion, but that does not change the fact that this is a really bad idea." She shook her head as if to emphasise that fact.

"You said you have certain emotional reactions to me. Don't you think that will complicate things? I mean,… I don't have anything remotely similar to the feelings I have for you for any of my friends." She blushed again, that intriguing mixture of pale pink on palest green made him take a deep breath.

"Yes, I believe there will be complications. I seem to have a rather peculiar reaction to seeing you in distress." He observed "And it is not necessarily what I would expect."

She gave him a quizzical look.

"I appear to take pleasure in seeing you embarrassed or upset, your blushes, your tears, the vulnerability they imply elicits a rather strong response." He tried not to feel uncomfortable as he told her this.

"It turns you on when I cry or blush?" she clarified rather crudely.

He merely inclined his head in affirmation.

"No crying, no blushing… ' got it." She noted, breaking her promise immediately as her cheeks went bright pink again.

"Well, then you can't … ahm, … ah, crap,… anything, really." She put one hand over her eyes and sighed in exasperation.

"If it makes you this uncomfortable, you should decline my request." He pointed out helpfully.

"I can't do that. You look at me with those puppy eyes and ask to be my friend, knowing full well that I,… hold great affection for you, how do you expect me to do the opposite of what would make you happy?"

He was silent at this, he wanted to argue that his eyes in no way resembled those of a juvenile canine, but was too preoccupied by the strange warm feeling that was spreading through his chest and stomach. She was not looking at him but still held one hand over her face, shaking her head slightly, as if she too could barely believe what she had just said.

"I think I had better go, Sir."

She was heading for the door so he called for her to wait.

"I am sorry for being selfish, it is most illogical to force a relationship on you in this manner. But since you have accepted, may I ask that you call me by my name when we are in private?"

She looked at him then, her expression approaching one of panic, he gave her an encouraging nod.

"Spock," she said "I _really_ think I need to go now."

"Thank you, Aureya." He saw her close her eyes slightly at the sound of her name, then she nodded a small farewell at him and was gone.

Newman had been nothing but civil to him during the week, fulfilling all her duties both in the lectures as well as the tutorials and office hour, with her customary brilliance and air of immense enjoyment. She had only readdressed their discussion once, informing him that she needed some time to get used to the idea. He had not pressed the point further.

It was with some surprise that he found her outside the door to his quarter the following Sunday at precisely 1235 hours, a large bag of groceries clutched to her chest.

"Hello there, mind if I come in." she announced as she was already making her way passed him.

"Where's your kitchen? I've only ever been in the living room."

He dumbly pointed at the appropriate door.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

He shook his head. Then followed her into the kitchen.

"What's wrong with you, you're terribly quiet." She gave him a bright smile, as if to indicate that she highly doubted there really was anything wrong with him.

"I am a little surprised, what are you doing here." He did not mean to sound critical, or as if he did not welcome her presence, he was merely a little at a loss as to the meaning of this visit.

"I've decided to take the bull by its horns, so to speak. Are you familiar with that expression?"

"I am afraid I am not."

"It means I've decided to tackle our little awkward problem directly. So, I've asked myself what I would do if I had just made a new friend and wanted him to like me." She shrugged at this.

"I looked up my notes on Vulcan culture, and apparently you guys are keen on having people cook for you…. Now I'm not a great cook, passable at best, but hey,… it's all in the spirit of friendship." She gave him her bright smile at this and made his heart skip a beat.

"I think I've made it quite clear that I like you sufficiently.' He pointed out. She laughed at him for this, not improving the regularity of his heartbeat at all.

"You'll have to help me with this." She pointed at the pile of vegetables she had just placed on the worktop. "Now, I know about the vegetarian thing, and the no touching, but the lady in the store said it was ok to touch until after you wash everything. So, now what?" she looked thoroughly amused, as if food preparation was some exciting little adventure.

"There are gloves in that drawer over there." He pointed her in the right direction.

"Do I have to wear them for washing them?"

"Yes."

"And there was something about cutting?"

"No bigger than the nail on your thumb."

"And oil?"

"No more than a tablespoon." He clarified.

She gave him that amused grin again.

"Wow, it's like you're an exotic pet with really complicated care instructions."

He did not quite share her amusement at this.

She made a vegetable stir-fry with separate spicy condiments for herself, but still did not miss the opportunity to inform him:

"Chicken would be lovely with this, you know." Then smiled again, only mildly apologetically, but he did not mind in the least.

He contemplated what an unexpected pleasure it was to sit down to share a meal with her, quite resolved that the proposal of a platonic friendship had been an excellent idea after all.

Aureya was, as he knew very well by now, excellent company. They discussed Starfleet, then the reality of her new living arrangements, which even he had to tentatively smile about, earning him a rather surprised little squeak, followed by a blush, followed by an apology.

"Sorry, no blushing, I know." She held both hands over her face, peeking through her fingers rather comically and announced: "give me a minute."

They proceeded to discuss music for a while, before she got up to clear her spot at the table.

"I'd better get going soon. I have elective hand-to-hand tomorrow morning and I hear we have this new instructor. Apparently some scary bugger with no sense of humour." She winked at him.

"Yes I believe I have been called intimidating and humourless at times." He merely responded.

"I'm glad you volunteered, it'll be interesting."

"I must attribute my decision to a rather unusual attachment to Commander Lennox's memory. He once reprimanded me for not taking more of an interest in none curricular activities."

"It'll be good for you." She told him.

"I believe that is precisely what _he_ said."

"Technical superiority will always outweigh physical strength.' He informed the assembled group of cadets and some faculty members, standing to attention in a row on the exercise ground.

"Would anyone care to name an example?"

There was an assortment of sniggers and giggles from the older students and some quizzical looks from the first years.

"I believe I am unfamiliar with the reason for your amusement." He stated rather bluntly. As usual, Cadet Uhura was quite willing to forward information.

"Commander Walton was trying to illustrate the exact opposite last year, Sir, I think he was rather unsuccessful." At this even Cadet Uhura had to hide a smile, while all the second and third year students and some staff members were grinning widely.

"Would you care to elaborate on this, Cadet?' he was beginning to feel slightly irritated as Aureya and Ensign Chekov kept exchanging meaningful looks.

"Commander Walton tried to illustrate the importance of physical strength by selecting the smallest and slightest students of last year's group to attack him, that's how he broke his arm, Sir." Uhura informed him.

"I see. Am I correct in assuming that the students in question are present here today?"

Both Chekov and Newman took a step forward.

"I see."

"Very well, this would indeed illustrate my point. May I enquire as to how you managed to defeat Commander Walton?"

Another volley of giggles. Newman looked mildly embarrassed. Spock merely raised his eyebrow and waited for an answer.

"Cadet Newman kicked him in the privates and Ensign Chekov flipped him sideways over his shoulder, breaking his arm by accident, Sir." Uhura stated.

"I see. That is not entirely what I meant when I was talking about technical superiority." He tried not to look amused, he had had some dealings with Walton and found it difficult to sympathise with the man.

"Ensign Chekov, would you care to demonstrate how you managed to flip a man of Commander Walton's substantial size? … Cadet Newman, I hope you do not mind if we do not demonstrate your particular set up for the move?' He unexpectedly earned himself some laughter for this.

Chekov looked rather worried as he approached the much bigger man, but Spock gave him an encouraging nod, and he took his stance, grasping his arm and using Spock's own weight against him, threw him over his shoulder without too much difficulty. Unlike Walton, Spock managed to land on his feet; this brought some intakes of breath from the assembled students and staff.

"Vulcan reflexes." He informed them, then added, turning to Chekov "Well done, Ensign." The young man looked quite pleased.

"Cadet Newman, do you believe you would be able to perform the same move." She gave him a look as if to question his sanity, but then replied:

"I think so, Sir." He indicated for her to move closer, and like Chekov she took up position and initiated the move. When she had managed to partially lift Spock off the ground, however, he countered her move by shifting his weight, effectively reversing the move and flipping her and pinning her to the ground. As she looked up at him, flat on her back and right beneath him, he concluded that this had not been the most brilliantly thought out idea. He was about to quickly rise and announce to the group that this was the appropriate countermeasure to return his focus to the task at hand, when he noticed a rather irritated expression pass Aureya's eyes. She hooked her leg behind his knee so quickly, he had no time to react, and as she pulled violently he was shoved sideways away from her, and rolled on his back. She took the opportunity to pin him down in turn, straddling him.

This had been a very bad idea, indeed. The darker urges he had been unwilling to discuss with Pike reared their ugly heads. He managed to throw her off and roll away, but she lunged for him with her elbow, hitting him in the ribs. He dragged her to her feet, then hooked his arms under her armpits and attempted to hold her still by placing his hands backwards on her neck, but she used her legs again to unbalance him before he could get a good grip on her. She was like a small angry dog, unaware of its own size but still making up for it with sheer ferociousness. He finally managed to get a good hold of one of her arms, twist it behind her back and throw her to the ground face down. Pinned her there with his knee to her lower back he noted that they were both panting rather heavily, even though he suspected for rather different reasons, and as he looked up at their small audience, he noticed that most of them were staring at them with surprised concern. He got off her immediately and held out a hand for her.

"Are you alright, Cadet?" there was mild panic in his voice, how had he allowed himself to get this carried away. She merely grinned at him as she took his hand.

"Absolutely, Sir, that was great fun, can we do it again?" there was no sense of menace or sexual innuendo in her words, and he believed that she was entirely unaware of what the pressure of her palm against his was doing to him, particularly in his current state.

He had to send the small group off to run laps around the grounds while he attempted to compose himself. Apparently no one found anything amiss with this, and after he completed the class by showing them a few simple but effective moves, the group packed up their equipment and wandered off chatting happily. He could hear one of the cadets remark to another: "Man, that was cool, the two of them beating the crap out of each other,… and she's such a little thing too." Spock closed his eyes briefly, struggling with the overwhelming sense of self-loathing.

He was on his way back to the Science Block to change in his office, when he noticed Aureya over at a small alley off the Sports and Recreation Centre, hopping on one foot, clearly in the middle of an attempt to change her shoes. Taking the opportunity to properly apologise, he walked over to her, she noticed him and gave him a bright smile.

"'You ok?" she asked, having identified the worried expression on his face correctly. He was about to point out that it would be more appropriate for him to ask her the very same question, when he noticed a small cut on her cheek. In his still slightly vulnerable condition he lost control of himself again and reached out for her face, gently stroking the cut with his thumb. "Aureya, I am so sorry. Vulcan emotions are rather violent. That is why we… " She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes, her lips parted slightly. All his restraint crumbled and he pulled her to him kissing her roughly, this time, however, she responded. Her lips on his were greedy and her warm tongue licked over his slightly open mouth before she let it enter and touched it to his own. His mind drawing a complete blank and his chest giving a slight grumble against his will, he leaned forward cradling her face in his hands and tilted her head backward to deepen the kiss, allowing him better access to her mouth. He was not gentle, pushing her backwards against the wall of the building, pressing his much bigger body into her without concern for her comfort. Her hands reached upwards and she let her fingers run through his hair, making him shiver slightly. As he stroked a curl of her own hair out of her face a little too harshly, his fingers brushed her temple. He had not intended to spy on her emotions, had not intended to open a telepathic link, but her intense emotional turmoil suddenly crashed over him like a wave. There was the joy of his touch, his kiss, her desperate physical need for him, and the guilt at knowing that this was wrong, but beneath all of it, there was something else entirely. Like some warm throbbing pulse, there was the way she thought of him, her understanding of his isolation and his need to prove himself, of his hidden pain, and her overwhelming desire to make it all better, to never have him hurt again, to give him anything he wanted, to see him happy. He pulled away from her then, looking at her small face in his large hands. Her eyes were closed and her lips, slightly swollen and red, were parted in a tiny smile. He kissed her again, differently this time, gently, reverently, putting every ounce of feeling he held for her so deep inside him into that one simple gesture. She sighed slightly and he let her go. He could hear footsteps approaching from the open area to their left and took a few steps away from her.

"I'm sorry." He said, though he was no longer entirely certain which of his many reasons for regret he was referring to.

"I know." She whispered, her eyes were still closed.

**Review, please.**


	14. Pendant

**A/N: Chapter 14 at last! I'm not particularly happy with this one, it's a little disjointed, the funny bits aren't really funny, and if I had the time, I'd set it aside for a bit and redo it later. I might still do that, but it serves the purpose of moving the story along, so I'll post it in the meantime. (Shows you how much of a shock being back to work was.)**

**I'm really happy that the last chapter was so well received, please don't be too cross about this one.**

**I should have the next one up much sooner, since I have two days off, yay.**

**There are about six more chapters to go and we'll enter movie territory soon. (Nervous about that)**

**A big, big, big "Thank You" to everyone who reviewed.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek, any of its characters, or any lyrics to Dolly Parton's songs. (The one I'm using here is "Baby I'm Burning") **

"Engine core temperature has reached critical, Sir." Aureya was shouting over the din of general mayhem into the com unit currently connected to the bridge, while the warning lights were flashing red alert. The persistent sound of the sirens, and the loud hiss of steam emitting from the cooling system, did nothing to improve her focus.

She had to step over P'Grell's dead body in an attempt to reach the secondary access panel, while simultaneously keeping a close eye on the core temperature indicator still operational on the main panel, now blocked by a large metal girder that had fallen across part of the engine room when the Klingon Bird of Prey had fired its second volley of phaser torpedoes straight at them and had broken through their shields. Attempting to override the main command codes proved less simple than it should be with the use of only one arm and with no other engineer left alive. She had just managed to gain access to the main panel and to transfer functions onto the access point she was working on, when the cooling system finally gave in. An enormous plume of steam obliterated everything in view for a moment before the final warning siren went off. Red letters had appeared on all access screens, counting down mere seconds.

"Engine failure in 5, 4, 3, 2,… " the computer announced.

"Shit!" Aureya closed her eyes in defeat.

With a deafening roar the entire room went bright white, glaring light swallowing everything in its path.

"And there goes the engine." Gnall announced in her head. Aureya took the earpiece out, opened her eyes, and looked around the now once more completely unscathed room. Greenberg was still leaning slumped against the far corner, but Shrem was sitting up cursing.

"Fuck, that was the sixth time, and why do I always croak first."

"Because, Mr P'Grell, you keep making the same mistake over and over again, you just haven't figured out what it is yet." Lieutenant Gnall announced through the observation window of the simulation room.

"You know, if you actually told us what we did wrong we might do a better job next time, Ma'am." Aureya sounded far less cordial than would be appropriate, but she had lost a number of limbs, her eyesight, and hearing at various points of the afternoon, and had watched her fellow engineers die 3 times. She was in markedly foul humour.

"What would be the point of that, Ms Newman? Life does not work that way." Gnall sounded grim.

"Life may not, Ma'am, but this is a simulation. You are supposed to teach us."

"And you would be an expert on the subject of education, because…?"

"Commander Lennox… "

"Ah, I see, you are still sore about my refusal to petition the board for funding for the so-called Lennox Challenge." Gnall was now clearly baiting her, a wide grin on her face.

"I was not even thinking about that, but now that you mention it, I think you are disrespectful and arrogant to think that you can decide to withdraw support for something that has been a part of Starfleet engineering…" Gnall interrupted her once again.

"While I have you in this rebellious mood, would you care to hazard a guess as to what went wrong with the simulation?"

"What?" Aureya felt distinctly wrong-footed.

"What, Ma'am." Gnall corrected her.

"The access codes, Ma'am."

"Elaborate?" The older woman wore an infuriatingly smug expression on her face.

"There is no reason for them as far as the three main panels in the engine room are concerned."  
"And pray tell me, when did you figure this one out, just now?"

"No, Ma'am, after the second simulation, but it is not standard procedure to have general access from all three… "

"Standard procedure? Is that your job as chief engineer, to uphold standard procedure? Or is it to keep your ship running and your crew alive?" The Lieutenant had crossed her arms over her chest and was throwing Aureya the most irritatingly sarcastic look.

"Ahm, … " Aureya could not help it, she had to admit that Gnall had made a rather valid point.

"And two more things, Ms Newman: firstly, tell Mr P'Grell to stop stepping on the blasted main cooling vent, he keeps getting steamed every time before he even knows what happened, and secondly, I have already been given permission and funding for the Lennox Challenge. Congratulations, both you and your boiled blue friend have made the cut again this year, only restriction is that, since you're both defending the title you're on the same team and are therefore not allowed to add a third engineer." Aureya was stunned.

"But you said… "

"Oh, I say a lot of things. … Now, let's run that simulation one more time, shall we? Would you like to make some adjustments to the set up of your engine room first?"

"Indeed, I would." Aureya couldn't help but grin at Gnall. As she passed P'Grell he gave her a little slap on the bum then smiled happily. She could not believe that Uhura, of all people, had started that stupid little habit. The next one of her friends to smack her rear end would get a finger up the nose, no matter how disgusting doing that would be.

"Oh, that is vonderful news. … Vell, I haf to tell you, I already knew about that."

Chekov gave her a sly grin. "Lieutenant Gnall practically bludgeoned the board into applying for the race to be held on Wulcan, as part of the ACT." Chekov informed Aureya as they made their way to the Green Wolf. He had, quite uncharacteristically, asked Aureya for a drink, claiming he had to discuss girl trouble. Not that Aureya was not already fully informed about the tall, young woman, who was 'tragically' in Chekov's first year M&L, and whom he had a massive crush on.

"I totally forgot, that's this year, isn't it?... The ACT I mean."

"Yup, last time vas vhen I vas in first year. I don't think it should be legal to make a 14 year old go through that." He did not seem to hold any particularly fond memories of the time. The Adverse Conditions Training that Starfleet operated every three years, was certainly not intended for teenagers. One week in the freezing ice deserts on Andoria, followed a few months later by a week in the scorching heat of Vulcan, was a tough one for all but the most resilient of the fully-grown cadets.

"How could you forget, the first part is in three veeks?"

Forgetting things had proven too easy recently. Apparently retaining information was rather difficult when your entire brain was focused on worrying about a certain green blooded someone. But now that Pavel had reminded her Aureya couldn't help feeling marginally excited despite the fact that students had returned with toes frozen off and severe heat stroke. She was about to ask for some details of the experience, when she remembered something else he had mentioned almost in passing:

"Wait, did you say the race was going to be on Vulcan?... Darwin's earwax, how the hell did she talk them into that? The entire board is scared senseless of the Vulcan High Council."

"I haf no idea, but that voman could talk a dog into dancing the waltz." Aureya conceded that Chekov had a point there.

"Vait here for a moment." They had reached the Wolf, but Chekov motioned her to stay as he slipped into the door. Feeling rather suspicious, Aureya suddenly had the feeling of having forgotten something important.

"Ok." Chekov's head poked out the door, an impish smile on his face.

"Pavel, what did you do? … What's going on?"

Chekov merely grinned at her, then grabbed her hand and dragged her into the bar where a loud chorus of "Happy Birthday!"s reminded her what exactly had slipped her mind.

"Oh yea." She remarked a little sheepishly, as Gaila rushed forward to hug her tightly, Shrem right behind her, managing to wrap his arms around both of them and lift them off the floor, making them squeal.

"You forgot, didn't you?' Gaila asked when she finally let her go.

Aureya just laughed and shook her head in disbelief; then she recalled an important detail:

"Hang on guys," she shouted over the general noise "it's not till tomorrow."

"Oh, we have every intention of being here till then." Kirk had made his way over to them and handed her a beer, clacking his own off it loudly.

After having to endure about six sets of a cappella, out of key birthday songs, one of which was in a language she had never heard before and which resembled a serious throat condition, Aureya settled in nicely.

The presents she received were mostly gimmicks (edible underwear from Kirk, a blindfold and earplugs from Shrem, an abacus and a digital book entitle "So you're still a virgin" from Gaila), only Uhura, Bones, and Chekov opted for getting her real gifts: a hand-quilted throw with tribal motives, an antique music box with the solar system made of real silver, revolving as it played Mozart's "Eine kleine Nachtmusik", and tow leather-bound books, both collections of Russian poetry in translation. She was quite touched by the latter, but had to admit that she could not help but laugh at the former. Shrem elaborated on his gift by telling her:

"See, it'll be like I'm not even there,… I can be totally naked now."

"No."

"Fine.' He gave her a fake pout.

As the evening wore on and the party properly warmed up, Aureya took a moment to slip away into the far corner of the bar, two shots of whiskey in her hand. She sat down at the little unoccupied table placing one glass in front of the empty seat next to her, then lifted the other in salute:

"Cheers, Alec, so glad you could make it." She whispered, downed her shot then made her way back to the rest of her friends, leaving the untouched second glass where it was.

She was pleased to find Captains Taylor and Pike among her guests and took the time to have a drink with each of them. Unfortunately, this led to her acting in what she considered the most pathetic of ways by scanning the bar regularly for a certain person's face; as expected, she never found it.

Aureya almost managed to forget about _him_, when Jim, Bones, Pavel, and Shrem took the dance floor, giving her meaningful looks. Noyota and Gaila appeared next to her, the first merely laughing, the other one dragging her forward while bringing along a small wooden chair, setting it down right in the middle of the floor and pushing her into it.

To the sound of a cheesy 20th century song that kept repeating the words "baby I'm burning", but still managed to upset Aureya with the line "… each time I kiss you, and everything goes up in flames", all four men started gyrating around where she sat like a lump of salt on her chair. The fact that some thought had gone into the choreography of the piece was only apparent from observing Bones, who, being the excellent dancer that he was, barely looked ridiculous until the halfway point where the clothes started to come off. Kirk's movements and facial expressions were so downright dirty, that the entire bar was in stitches watching him. Pavel resembled nothing so much as a newborn calf, so painfully uncoordinated that Shrem was kept busy leading him around the floor and preventing him from hurting either himself or others.

As the music built dramatically, uniforms started to fly in a mock strip tease, for instead of sexy underwear, all four dancers were sporting shiny yellow leotards with the words "mean, green eat'n' machine" printed on the chest and a large number 22 on the back. After recovering from the shock of being dropped into the middle of all this nonsense, Aureya nearly made herself sick laughing; it had just gone midnight.

As it came close to 0100 hours, Aureya noticed that the bar was beginning to look empty. It was, after all, midweek and they all had classes to attend the next morning. Shrem and her had been debating the choice of a navigator, now that Chekov was no longer available, then changed the subject to the first leg of the ACT and the one day shore leave they would be given while on Andoria, then right back to the question of navigator.

"I trust Pavel's judgement, if he says take Rubens, then I think we should take Rubens." Aureya smiled across the table at Chekov, but he had clearly not heard her and just smiled back with a question in his eyes.

"I worked with Harman last year, and while he's not brilliant, I just can't snub him like that." Shrem stated rather weakly.

"Fine, blame it on me."

"That would make me look whipped." He gave her a little shake of his head that made his antennae wobble a little.

"Oh brilliant, male ego and pride, as if I didn't have enough of that."

"You have a male ego?"

"Never mind,… poker?"

"What?" Shrem looked a little confused.

"Do you play poker?'

"Yea?"

"Fine, we'll play for who's going to be our navigator during shore leave on Andoria, I'm sure the others'll be in, we just divide them into two teams."

"Well then I get Nyo, she can't play." Shrem grinned.

Aureya had to laugh at him:

"You sure are eager to win. Maybe I should rethink being happy about you as my partner for the challenge."

Shrem just smiled and shook his head.

They were all still bearably sober when they left the Green Wolf at around 0215 hours, so Kirk announced:

"We'll have to go for a real thing soon."

"Too much work to do, not gonna happen." Aureya told him from Shrem's back, who had decided that it was necessary to give her an honorary piggyback ride home. Just to get the most out of the evening Kirk, Gaila and Chekov stayed at Eya and Shrem's quarters; things were, however, far more civilised than usual: P'Grell slept on the couch, Kirk and Chekov in his bed, and Gaila shared with Aureya.

Well, things were civilised but for the fact that Gaila was a worse sleep groper than Kirk.

"You are not feeling well today." Commander Spock stated this rather than ask it during office hour the day after Aureya's birthday party.

He had kept their interactions to a bare minimum in the weeks since the incident of the elective hand to hand, had made no further attempts of being friendly with her, and she had accepted this. She had not questioned his judgment, not because she agreed with any apparent decision he seemed to have made, but merely because she was too stunned to think clearly. Her Orion genes had slightly different ideas and made her irritable and jumpy, presumably out of frustration.

"I'm sorry, Sir. I am aware that it is inappropriate to be hung-over for work. I have no excuse." She had taken to using the formal address again, even in private, as he had done likewise. And while she had been able to follow her lectures of that morning without problems, a certain cotton woolly feeling in her head announced that the sleep deprivation and the after effects of the alcohol were catching up with her.

He merely nodded in acknowledgment. She knew him well enough by now to realise that he preferred a simple apology to any excuse. A sentiment she emphatically shared. Without another word to her, Spock handed her a pad of lecture notes to proof. They both worked quietly for the remainder of the hour and it was only when Aureya was packing her bag and was about to leave, that he placed a small fabric covered box on her little desk.

"I would ask you to open this in your quarters.' He told her.

She merely gave him a puzzled look.

"Sir there was no need, I… " She felt a lump in her throat, her slightly delicate condition making her more emotional than usual.

"I insist. You gave me a very thoughtful present for my last birthday, it is only appropriate that I give you something for yours." He was rearranging the objects on his desk as he spoke, a clear indication of his current discomfort.

"Thank you, Sir." She had to swallow her impending tears.

"It is something rather meaningful, it used to belong to my mother, she gave it to me at her last visit." He told her quietly.

"You shouldn't… " She didn't quite know what it was she wanted to say.

"I am sorry for my behaviour towards you. And I am sorry I did not possess the self-control to be your friend." He told her, still not looking at her, but at the picture of his parents on his desk.

"But I need you to understand that I have nothing but the utmost respect, … nothing but affection for you." He looked at her briefly a pained look in his eyes, then returned his gaze to the picture.

"I will not dismiss you from your position as my assistant, but I will not require your services during my office hours any longer. As for your other duties, I see no reason why you should not be able to fulfil those with a minimum of personal contact. I shall change your tutorials to merely once a week and put more emphasis on self study."

Dismissed, Cadet Newman."

Aureya was in shock, she stood with her mouth opening and closing for a moment, then as the meaning of his words fully hit her, her eyes began to well up.

She grabbed the small box, shoved it into her bag and left his office hurriedly. She did not want him to see her cry, not because of the way she knew it affected him, but because she was ashamed at having nothing better to offer in response. She felt like a coward for allowing him to dismiss her like this. All he had were apologies and some trinket of sorts. She could not explain her own feelings at the moment he had sent her from his office, but as her heart rate slowed and her brain began to function again, she was pretty sure she was _angry_, no that was too meek, she was _furious_.

When she arrived at her quarters Shrem was, for once, on his own, sprawled on the couch, nose in a pad. Giving him a quick wave, Aureya made her way to the bathroom for some privacy. Her hands were shaking slightly as she reached for the little box and opened the lid carefully. The glint of something metallic caught her eye and as she took a closer look, she saw that on a small silk cushion there was a lovely silver pendant, about the size of a birch leaf, set with pale blue and translucent white stones. Brushing her fingers over it, her breath caught and the lump in her throat that she had carried with her from Spock's office, broke apart, flooding her whole body with the pent up emotion. She was sobbing like a child and Shrem, usually not that perceptive, knocked on the bathroom door.

"You Ok, sweetheart?"

_No, she was most definitely not Ok. _

"Fine." She choked out, but could hear that her voice would never convince her roommate.

"I'll be fine in a minute." She added, which was just as far from the truth, but at least gave her the option of coming out of the bathroom before the red around her eyes had gone away. When she made her way to the kitchenette, Shrem gave her a concerned look.

"You're not talking about it?"

"No." Her answer was plain and simple and non negotiable.

"Need a hug?"

"Yes." As her friend wrapped his arms around her, he asked into her hair:

"Do I need to be worried?"

"No."

""K then,"

Heartbreak was an odd sort of thing, as far as Aureya could tell; she had experienced nothing that so altered her perception of the world around her. She tried very hard not to feel mild resentment towards Uhura and Bones for that quiet happiness at their constant bickering they exuded whenever she met them together, or to feel as if it was too easy _for some_, every time Gaila, Shrem, and Kirk made it so blatantly obvious how much fun each others' company was to them. Even Chekov's crush on his student seemed laughably uncomplicated to her. The new, sullen, jealous and angry Aureya was someone she barely recognised in the mirror. She could not bear to look at her friends the way she now did, and decided on a new target for her resentment and blame: Vulcan bloody logic and pride. And while she felt no different about Commander Spock than she had before their little doomed experiment in friendship, many things that he stood for, that he regarded as so superior, were now everything she had sworn to show him up for. She had no desire to hurt him, to humiliate him; she merely wanted to prove to him, and to herself, that he was wrong about _something_. She wanted to show him, that no matter how much he might want to control things, make the world around him conform to his notions, that certain things were simply out of his hands, were a rule onto themselves.

_That much for "a woman scorned"._

Not that he had strictly speaking scorned her, not that she had not agreed to everything he had decided for both of them; she had not argued when he had said a relationship was impossible, she had not denied him when he had kissed her, she had been such a push over in every possible way.

_Come here puppy… bad puppy, go away puppy._

She had never really had an opportunity to think about what any of this really meant. The realisation of quite how bizarre their mutual attraction was, had only recently taken shape in her mind, she had been too confused by her own feelings to make any judgment on the matter.

_What does he even see in me?_

_What the hell do I see in him?_

None of it made sense. But she knew now how to distract herself: the Kobayashi Maru.

"I think we should do it." Aureya folded her hands in front of her chest with a look of utter determination on her face.

"Vhat, but Eya you said it vas not vorth…"

"I know, Pavel, and it might not be, I wouldn't want to make this decision for anyone else. If Kirk is in and happy to be held responsible, then so am I. That doesn't mean you have to be." She knew she was acting like a child; being bold so _someone_ would notice her, pay more attention to her. She didn't care, the idea of irritating _him_, of eliciting any kind of emotional response from him, made her almost shake with excitement. She suddenly understood the rush he must feel when he saw her cry, her own pleasure seemed to her just as perverse.

"Excellent, that means if we hack it, and damn it, it sure looks like we're going to, you'd be willing to go in and connect the whole thing up." Kirk gave her a grin that was triumphant and worried in equal measure.

"Sure, might as well be me, I'm the smallest and most wiry of us." Aureya smiled at him, a wicked glint in her eyes.

"Cool, we'll make Starfleet history." Gaila chirped. "I'm halfway through the software matrix, it's a good thing the Maru has been around for a while, got the original program through an unsecured link into old library files. I don't know why Commander Spock didn't redo the whole thing from scratch, it would have been safer."

"He has a thing for tradition, probably thought working with the original matrix was a way of continuing the line unbroken." Aureya pointed out.

"Isn't tradition illogical?" Noyota asked.

"Logic is sometimes a bit vague when it comes to the Commander, I think he bends the concept occasionally, when it suits him." Aureya earned herself some amused looks for that.

"You have my sympathy." Kirk told her, and when she gave him a puzzled look he explained:

"It must really suck having to spend so much time with the pointy-eared prick that you start to understand how his mind works. Seriously, my condolences."

"Don't even go there." Aureya mumbled, avoiding Kirk's eyes.

Bones threw her a sympathetic look of a completely different kind at this. She had to hand it to him though, apart from the occasional glance, Bones was as unobtrusive about being in the know as he could possibly manage. It occurred to her briefly that he might be a good candidate to ask for advice, but then concluded that he'd be entirely pragmatic and tell her to get over the whole thing. Well, she intended to, just as soon as Jim, Chekov, Gaila, and herself had wiped the floor with Commander Spock.

_Mmmm, it almost seemed as if she felt something like resentment towards old pointy ears, so much for her emotions remaining unaltered._

"H-hhh-o-ly sh-sh-i-t-t-tt." Aureya had intended to follow her curse with an actual sentence, but her teeth were clattering so violently, she thought better of it. As it was, she felt her sentiment had been expressed quite adequately.

Their team consisted of 18 people including herself, only four of whom she had known before the ACT; to her great relief Shrem, Gaila, Kirk and Uhura were all assigned to the same group. Tasked with the search for resources and equipped merely with the most basic away kit, they had been stranded in the middle of the Andorian ice desert and were left to their own devices. They would be closely monitored, so that, unlike on a real mission, there would never be any real danger to anyone's life.

"Beautiful, isn't it?' Shrem was standing next to her, merely dressed in moderate cold weather gear, a big smile on his face.

Aureya contemplated hitting him, but the layers and thick padding of her own clothes made it hard to move, she contemplated giving him a few choice words, but there was still the whole teeth clattering business, so in the end she merely rolled her eyes to heaven, hoping they wouldn't freeze into place while contorted.

A giant padded blob appeared by her side and was only recognisable by bits of green sticking out between snow goggles and balaclava.

"I c-c-cca-a-n't f-f-feel my t-t-oe-ssss." Gaila announced.

Uhura was overseeing the construction of shelter behind them, but they all knew that wouldn't do them much good unless they could construct a heat source.

Giving Shrem a little whack on the arm, Aureya indicated the direction of the crashed glider that had been planted to make the simulation more realistic. Shrem just kept grinning, so she whacked him again, pointing more frantically.

"What? …need to pee?"

Aureya groaned.

"H-h-he-a-tttt." She managed.

"What?"

Aureya gave up and simply grabbed Shrem and dragged him off towards the shuttle. After two hours of picking the shuttle apart and salvaging anything left undamaged by whatever had ended the shuttle's life of active duty, they made their way back to their little camp to find a large tent-like structure and not a single person in sight.

All sixteen remaining members of their team were huddled in a big lump in the middle of the tent.

As they came in Uhura smacked Kirk across the face:

"I-I t-t-t-old y-you-u t-to st-tto-p th-a-ttt."

Apparently not even the most severe of conditions could curb Kirk's groping enthusiasm.

After managing to get the tent to a hospitable temperature, taking inventory of their rations and water supply, they unanimously decided that they would need to send out small teams, one at a time, since they could not afford to have everyone on full output for however long their teachers had decided to leave them stranded. After attempting to enquire about dangerous life forms from Shrem, to which he only responded with a shrug, it became painfully clear that what they had considered to be an advantage, was the exact opposite. Shrem had apparently been instructed not to divulge any information, evening the playing field for all the teams without a native team-mate.

"Charades?" Aureya ventured hopefully.

Shrem shook his head.

Uhura gave an exasperated sigh and cut in:

"There are two main types of predators on Andoria, only one lives in the desert, and it mainly hunts smaller game, so we should be ok, I'd still take a phaser though." Uhura looked a little smug.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the walking encyclopaedia." Aureya announced; the team broke into fake applause.

Noyota wrinkled her nose but smiled anyway.

With a team of five on recon and the other thirteen at base camp at all times, they in fact managed to find some drinking water, some ice roots and even hunt down some of the small white furred mammals quite common on Andoria. Despite their success, the constant white glare, the freezing cold, and the lack of activity soon began to wear down their little group. Aureya decided to appoint Gaila and herself as the "morale team", which Gaila interpreted to apply only to the male team-members and required some instruction on. Storytelling, singing old traditional songs and playing word games or guessing games, were some of the options open to them, since the away kit provided no materials other than survival necessities. After the second day, no one needed any prodding anymore and the base team would readily lapse into old half-forgotten tunes or tell fairy tales and legends to stave off boredom. Even though there were five non-human members in the team, most old stories had a universal message common to all, and seemed to work beautifully in keeping them entertained.

On day five, some had begun to wonder if Starfleet had in fact forgotten about them, their small com unit picked up some static on a secure frequency. Uhura switched off the automated distress call they had been broadcasting and took over on the com.

"Broadcasting on all Starfleet frequencies, this is Lieutenant Uhura from the USS Mariner, marooned on Parton Omega, come in." She duly stated the details supplied for their training mission.

"USS Mariner, this is Captain Pike of the USS Darwin, do you read."

A huge cheer went around base camp and Shrem quickly contacted Kirk and the other four in the away team on the communicator to have them return to base.

As it turned out, their little team was one of only 7 out of the original 32 that had made it as far as day five. Everyone was a little stunned at this, for while it had been bitter cold and unpleasant, none of them had perceived the experience as being anything unmanageable.

Having a well deserved drink in one of Shrem's favourite hang outs, and with the entire following day at their disposal, Aureya spotted Captain Pike and Commander Spock over at a small table not too far from where Shrem, Kirk, Gaila, Uhura, and Bones – happily reunited – were sitting. Markedly avoiding the second man's gaze, she made her way over to Pike to shed some light on their little mystery:

"Excuse me Sir, may I ask you a question?" she was aware that she was now fully ignoring Spock by not giving him the customary greeting, but she truly didn't care.

"Certainly, Cadet Newman."

"Seven? Only seven, really? … I don't mean to sound conceited, Sir, but, … well, it didn't seem that hard."

Pike gave her an amused grin, then laughed outright.

"So you had no idea what you were doing, did you?'

"Sorry, Sir?"

"You and Cadet Gaila?"

"I'm not following, Sir."

"Most of the other teams had massive personal …psychological issues. Cabin fever, I believe it's called. The purpose of the exercise was to demonstrate that adverse conditions are only a small part of the problem if you are stranded in the middle of nowhere. Half of them gave up, the other ones went as far as sabotaging each other, wondering off on the rest of their team into the desert, starting violent fights… stuff you wouldn't believe. This place can drive people crazy."

"Ahm,… Sir, I'm still not following,… what exactly did we do to not go mad?"

Commander Spock's voice cut across the conversation and made Aureya wince:

"I believe you succeeded in distracting your team while simultaneously creating a strong sense of community."

Not looking at him but keeping her eyes on Captain Pike instead, she asked:

"How?"

"Ah yea, that would be all the singing, and playing games, and telling stories, I would say." Pike informed her with a grin.

"Are you bloody serious?"

"Sure looks like it, well done, Cadet."

"Cool."

"Freezing, more like it." Pike joked, white puffs of air escaping as he spoke.

Smiling at him in farewell, then giving him the proper salute, once again ignoring Commander Spock and not being reprimanded by either man, she made her way back to their table. On her way back she heard Pike ask:

"So, what's going on,… what'd you do?'

"I have no comment on the matter."

---

When she reached her table Shrem was already mixing cards.

"So are going to do this or what?"

"Now?... ahm, sure."

"Ok, Kirk and Bones are with you, Gaila and Uhura with me."

Aureya had to laugh at that, for while Gaila was a decent player, Uhura was a novice and Bones and Kirk were heavyweights, Shrem had absolutely no intentions of winning this one.

Wrapped in their winter coats and shivering slightly, they settled into a rather short game of poker, for Shrem kept dropping cards, showing them to the table or turning his deck around "accidentally".

"Reuben it is." He announced.

"Oh, so sorry about that my friend, whatever will you tell Harman?"

Aureya grinned, but was still mildly sorry for the young man who had to go through the Winner's Lap with them last year.

Making her way to the restroom Aureya spotted Commander Spock observing her from the far end of the bar. She made a note of ignoring him once again, but when she was on her way back to her table he intercepted her.

"May I have a quick word with you, Ms Newman?"

"What now, Sir? I think you've said quite enough to me, thank you."

Uncharacteristically he physically stopped her by grabbing her arm.

"I detect a certain note of resentment in your voice."

"You think?"

"Are you being sarcastic?"

Aureya sighed at this, shook her head and noted:

"Yes, Sir, I apologise."

"I have restricted personal contact with you not because I wish to do so, surely you must be aware of this. It merely serves to safeguard the continuation of our relationship in an adequately professional, appropriate form."

Aureya groaned, there was that word again: _appropriate_.

"You decided on what was most _convenient _for you, Sir, you never once asked my opinion. …And while I can understand that you feel the need to distance yourself from me, you cannot possibly expect me to be happy about this, I'm having a hard time just being compliant. …As for me being resentful… well, can you blame me?"

Spock merely inclined his head looking at her thoughtfully, then he reached forward towards the collar of her jacket and brushing her neck briefly, making her shiver, this time not from the cold, retrieved a thin silver chain with the pendant dangling from it.

"And despite your resentment you choose to wear this." He stated. His expression was unreadable, but Aureya interpreted it as smug.

Truly infuriated by his arrogance, Aureya slapped his hand away forcefully. He dropped the pendant but almost immediately tried to reach for her once more.

"Don't you dare touch me again." She practically hissed at him. "Don't you dare take liberties… you are the one who ended this, my emotions are none of your concern anymore, that does not mean you don't have to respect them. …Just go back to your stuck up, lonely little life and leave me be. That's what you want, isn't it?" With one last glare at him she turned on her heel and marched back to her table. Fortunately none of her friends had witnessed the little altercation. The Kobayashi Maru could not come fast enough.

**A/N: Review please.**


	15. Dirt and Sand

**A/N: Hi all. I am so sorry for being such a cow. No posts and no replies to the last set of reviews… I don't know what to say. I had a massive crisis of faith and did the whole head in the sand thing.**

**Then I got sick (just a cold, but it sucked anyway), and then it got to the stage where I didn't write because I felt guilty about not writing. (Yup, I'm a bit of a mess) **

**Anyways, I think the fact that I have the story all planned out and an end is in sight, really freaked me out too. I promise I will finish this, 'cause even though I know how it ends, all the small details of how to get from A to B only pop up when I'm actually writing it, and I don't want to miss those.**

**Thanks to dragonwitch250 for the kick in the ass.**

**Won't ask for reviews (even though I love them; this is my punishment), but if you want to comment I will definitely write back.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Star Trek or any of its characters.**

**Enjoy.**

***

Despite the fact that he had limited all contact to one tutorial and one lecture, Newman managed to disrupt his entire day on the two occasions a week when he got to see her. She was no longer punctual or cordial, she would usually arrive a few minutes late for her tutorial – though never for the lecture, since this would involve the inconvenience of someone other than himself –, her fingers now regularly caked in grime and engine oil, and her uniform replaced by overalls.

"Cadet Newman, if your other activities do not afford you the time to focus on your studies, you should inform me of this. Please remember, this is a course of your choosing, not a requirement."

She looked up at him from her desk, her eyes cold and her mouth turned downward in a way she now reserved solely for him.

"I apologise, Sir, the short timeframe for the Lennox Challenge is difficult to handle and I have other extra-curricular activities that require a lot of time and attention, if you wish for me to go, Sir, I will do so."

He had to force himself not to tell her "no".

Her dishevelled appearance, the black dirt under her fingernails, her attitude, all these things should appal him, not make his breathing and heart rate quicken and make him wish he could punish her in a way that was most distinctly not Starfleet protocol.

"You clearly place a higher importance on some of those activities than you do on your academic achievements." He inclined his head a little to show his disappointment.

The glint of a few metal links at her neck indicated that today too she was wearing his gift. He had to grasp his hands clasped behind his back more firmly to keep them there. She did this to him every time they met; she made him want to hurt her and claim her one moment, then make him want to comfort her, hold her, the next. He usually required an additional four hours of meditation every time she marched into his office and scowled at him. He even understood that it hurt her to do so. He had known her long enough to comprehend quite how much of an effort it was for her to be unsocial, that she did this as a show of quite how much he had hurt her, which in turn only demonstrated how much she really wanted him. His breathing increased once more at that thought.

She rose to shove her pad and stylus into her bag, clearly calling his bluff. He knew he should just let her go, he knew this was torture for both of them.

"Since you are already here, I will need your assistance with a particular explanation for my next third year lecture." He informed her without a hint of pleading in his voice.

"Sir, this is my tutorial, not your office hour, and you have given me sufficient material for self study to last me a month." She was about to march out of his office but seemed unable to make herself do so in the end. With a loud sigh she dropped her bag by the door, turned and walked back over to where he was standing behind his desk. Extending one hand she told him:

"Very well, let me have a look then."

"Sir" he corrected her, but she merely looked at him, one eyebrow raised in what he believed to be a mocking imitation of himself.

As he handed her the pad he brushed her fingers intentionally, she let out a low hiss and told him in a stern voice:

"Don't do that."

He fought the urge to close his eyes.

After looking over the information on his pad for a few minutes, she placed it on his desk, thereby avoiding a repetition of the earlier _accident_.

"This is perfectly fine. It is clear, straightforward and you've chosen enough examples to illustrate it, you don't need my help." She told him, giving him an almost accusing look.

"Now, Sir, if we are done playing games, … if you are done torturing me, may I be dismissed, I have the late shift in the hanger tonight and I would like to get some rest beforehand."

He merely nodded slightly as she made her way to her bag at the door, but felt it necessary to inform her just before she left:

"I am torturing myself more than you, you should be aware of that."

She just shook her head and walked out the door.

***

His mother contacted him that evening, just before he could settle into his significantly extended meditation session, all suppressed excitement about the impending academy visit to Vulcan.

"Do you think it would be inappropriate to invite some of your friends to dinner at our house?" she asked him.

"Yes, mother, I think that would be a little peculiar, I am a grown man after all."

"Oh." She made no attempt at hiding her disappointment this time, and Spock interpreted this as her rather blatant attempt of guilting him into changing his mind.

"But if you insist, I might ask Captains Pike and Taylor, and Ensign Chekov to join us." He had never been very good at denying his mother.

"That would be wonderful, oh, and invite that lovely assistant of yours, Cadet Newman."

"Mother, I don't think…"

"Oh, don't be such a snob, I know she is still a student, but I like her, she is amusing."

Contemplating the option of explaining to his mother exactly why it would be a bad idea to invite Newman, he decided that simple compliance would be the easier alternative.

"Very well, mother, I will inform them."

She rewarded him with a bright smile, which she immediately hid behind her hand, and he admonished himself for pondering options of avoiding the whole affair, when the idea of a closer glimpse at his new life so obviously pleased her.

Finally settling into a few hours of meditation after he had finished his conversation with his mother, Spock found that the desired effect, the slightly numbed perception of his emotions, was harder to obtain than usual. At around 2436 hours he decided that he would require some exercise to tire his body sufficiently and make his mind more susceptible to relaxation.

Quite by accident he made his way past the 24-hour store on campus, and since he was there, he concluded there would be no harm in obtaining some food and visiting a certain hanger to discuss the prospect of dinner with his parents.

He found her the way he had almost a year earlier, flat on her back, only her feet sticking out form under a suspended glider. He noticed the differences in design and colour immediately, as well as a certain tapered quality to the hull, that must have been a new addition.

"Ms Newman, may I have a word."

Both feet gave a visible twitch, then shuffled out from beneath the vehicle and grew into legs, then a torso, until finally a very surprised looking Cadet Newman was staring up at him, still on her back.

"What the hell…"

He held out a bag and a thermal cup to her. She got to her feet, still looking surprised, but now combining that expression with one of irritation.

"You brought me coffee and doughnuts?"

"I believe they were well received when Commander Lennox offered them last year." He clarified.

She did not take either of the extended offerings but merely kept staring at him, the skin right between her eyebrows was wrinkled into a v shaped crease, he had to fight the compulsion to reach out for it to smooth it.

"Why are you here,… _Sir_?" She placed her hands on her hips as she asked this question, in his experience that meant she was preparing for an argument.

"I wanted to discuss a certain recent addition to your schedule for the visit to Vulcan. My mother insists on inviting some of my acquaintances to dinner and has expressed a clear desire for you to be among them." He thought clear and precise information would be the best course of action under the circumstances.

"What?" She looked baffled; her arms hovered over her hips in indecision for a moment, before she placed them there once more.

"I hope you told her that I would not be able to attend?"

"My mother is a very persistent woman and I…"

"What are you, twelve?" He chose to ignore her sarcastic question.

"My mother appears rather fond of you and I do not see why, if you are on your best behaviour, a meeting need necessarily be difficult or unpleasant." He felt marginally defensive.

"Well, …that, … ahm, … are you insane? We barely manage to be civil with each other at the moment. I'm flattered that your mother likes me, she is a lovely lady and I'm glad someone in your family thinks I'm nice, but …"

"I think I have made it quite clear on a number of occasions that I am excessively fond of you, I believe therein lies our problem. As for your insistence on behaving in what you no doubt regard as a disagreeable fashion towards me, let me assure you that the underlying meaning thereof is not lost on me. I am quite aware that your sexual frustration and your…"

"Out!!! Now!!!! Get the hell out of my hanger!!!!" She was charging him like a furious bull, only in miniature, attempting to shove him towards the door with the bare minimum of physical contact. He stood his ground, and given his significantly larger size, she gave up short of leaning into him.

"I mean no offence. If the words 'sexual frustration' discomfort you, let me just state that I am suffering from the exact same problem. I believe we are both mature enough to at least be honest about this. As for the proposed dinner, I do not believe that extended social interaction on our part will be required, I will invite Ensign Chekov and you may choose to converse primarily with him."

She was holding both hands over her face, obscuring his view of her expression, shaking her head slightly she asked in a whisper:

"Are you trying to cost me the will to live?"

He looked rather puzzled, uncertain as to how to respond. She removed the hands from her face, and looking at him, clearly noting his confusion, stated in her normal voice:  
"I accept your invitation, but merely as a favour to your mother. Now, Sir, would you please be so kind as to leave?"

"Thank you." He told her, and placing the doughnuts and coffee, which he was still holding, on a small work bench beside the glider, made his way towards the door.

"Spock." She stopped him.

He turned, giving her a questioning look.

"Why is this so complicated? … I mean, lots of people just have sex, why are we being this difficult about it?"

"If I thought that our particular problem could be solved by one sexual encounter, if I thought that it would somehow free both of us from whatever compulsions we feel at the moment, I would not care about the propriety of such an act. However,… "

He observed her taking a deep breath and holding it for a moment, as she exhaled, she simply told him:

"Thank you."

"For?"

"For knowing that it's more than that, too."

He gave her a short nod, then made his way back into the night.

He attempted another meditation session in the early hours of the morning, but to no avail. He remembered just how she had looked when he had left her in the hanger, all the small details he had forced himself to ignore now made their way into his mind: The way her powdery green skin had looked against her grey undershirt, the shape of her breasts barely concealed by the same, the small strip of exposed skin where her rolled down overalls did not quite meet her top, the smudge of engine grease just there. He had never wanted to lick dirt so badly in his life.

***

Returning to Vulcan always had a certain sense of ambiguity for him. There was the insurmountable notion of replacing a chosen inability to fit in with one that had always been forced upon him. He was never as aware of what he perceived as his human shortcomings as when he visited his home planet. Despite this, it was precisely those shortcomings, in the form of his mother, which created then intangible sense of home for him.

It was with no small amount of trepidation that he awaited meeting his father again, since the two had not been on speaking terms since Spock's decision of choosing Starfleet over the Vulcan Science Academy. He was mildly relieved that this meeting would not take place for another week, as the second part of the ACT took precedent and had to be completed first.

Lining up the cadets standing to attention on a large open desert plane, Pike set about announcing the schedule:

"Now, here is how this is going to work: You will be separated into groups of six, please look at your scanners to identify your team mates."

There were a good few happy squeals, giggles, and thumping of backs in the large group, which was technically still supposed to stand to attention. Pike threw Spock an evil grin, and the older man could not help but reply with his own, extremely muted version.

"I feel bad about this." Ensign Chekov whispered to his left.

"A false sense of security created through the presence of friends is a very real issue on missions where the crew are well acquainted, it is important to teach them the difference this can make in a volatile situation." Spock explained, not for the first time.

"I know Sir, but please remember that one of those groups consists entirely of my best friends."

"I am aware, Mr Chekov, but I hope this will not impair your ability to do your duty. Quite besides that, I cannot imagine that it would be that difficult to shoot Cadet Kirk."

Chekov snorted before clapping a hand over his mouth and giving Spock a reproachful look.

"Sirr, I find it wery disconcerting vhen you joke, it always comes out of novhere."

Spock could not help but feel marginally smug.

When Pike joined them after completing instructions and sending the cadets to their respective flyers to be placed at regular intervals out in the middle of nowhere in the Vulcan desert, he was still grinning viciously.

"Well, I don't know about you guys, but I'm sort of looking forward to this."

Chekov made an odd little growly sound and Pike clapped him on the shoulder.

"Oh yea, all your mates are out there. So, who are you most looking forward to taking down?"

"Sirr, please remember that ewen vithout me there, they still haf a combined IQ of over 950 betveen the six of them, I am not so sure…"

"IQ my ass, split moment decisions come from the gut, that's how people get this wrong." He gave Chekov a wide grin, then turned to Spock.

"So, we have three days to kill… let them settle in and get comfy, what do we do till then? I suppose it would be too much to hope for a decent bar around here."

"Indeed, it would." Spock raised one eyebrow at his friend in amusement.

---

The first camp was raided precisely 68 hours after their arrival on Vulcan. It was 0549 hours and the small group of tents, placed in a bowl like indentation, which protected it from the wind but was strategically disastrous, appeared to be fully occupied by sleeping cadets.

Spock's raiding party consisted of Captain Pike, Commander Walton, Lieutenant Gnall, Ensign Chekov and himself. They were all dressed in dark, slightly worn civilian clothing, all Starfleet insignia and equipment removed, and were all sporting small data chips which would identify them to the cadets' scanners as unknown and technically inferior with the exceptions of weaponry, which Starfleet phasers were no match for.

They were just about to close in on the camp, when one of the tents began to move slightly and a moment later a young man unfamiliar to Spock emerged and stretched leisurely. He was about to make his way towards some shrubs at the far corner of the camp, when Walton gave them all a small shrug, then shot the unsuspecting young man.

"Sucks to be killed before you even had your morning wiz." He smilingly told them.

Not being particularly fond of the man, Spock failed to see the humour in his remark, and glancing over at Christopher, noted that he was not smiling either.

The young cadet had uttered a small cry before falling to the ground, which had alerted some of his camp mates. In the service of the simulation the raiders did not attack immediately but gave the cadets time to decide on a plan of action.

The camp was mobilised in a mere minute and took up battle stations.

Pike let out a little hiss:

"Ah pity, would have been nice to start the whole thing on a high note, have the first lot get it right." Equipped with small mobile shields, just in case some panicked first year had not set his or her phaser to stun, and with both tactical advantage and experience on their sides, it took them a mere five minutes to shoot every last one of the unfortunate cadets.

"Well, that was disappointing, they didn't even put up a proper fight." Walton remarked as the support crew carried off the six cadets. "What's up with skinny?" He pointed at a slightly shaky Chekov, whose complexion was bordering on green.

"I believe Cadet Chekov is not yet accustomed to shooting people, Commander." Spock clarified.

"Pansy."

He most definitely did not like the man.

---

As it happened, the most common reactions to the raid fell into two, previously anticipated, categories: confrontation or submission. The close personal connection of the cadets to one another clearly played a part here, as most groups acted out of outrage or fear. By the time they reached their 42nd raid on day five of the ACT, they had all begun to feel a little bored with, and mildly disturbed by all the shooting. The six cadets had lined up in front of their camp, arms raised in surrender, Spock had given Chekov the signal and they had started on opposite ends of the line, each shooting three of the young men and women, it was almost like an execution.

"I don't like the fact that I'm getting used to this." Chekov pointed out.

"Only four more groups to go, Mr Chekov." Spock reassured him.

"And you should be at least a little excited that we got your pals up next." Pike grinned "Group 143: Cadets Gaila, Kirk, McCoy, Newman, P'Grell, and Uhura, in alphabetical order." He gave Spock a small wink at this, who did not appreciate the gesture in the slightest.

"Oh_, I'm_ excited about that." Walton informed them. "Just keep the little green one away from my crotch." Pike snorted then gave Spock the most infuriatingly wicked grin, accompanied by a small eyebrow ballet. He felt mildly tempted to hit him.

Gnall, who had fortunately missed Pike's expression, gave her own snort and informed Walton:

"I think you manage just fine keeping the ladies off your crotch all by yourself." He scowled at her.

Camp 143 was positions adjacent to a rock outcrop, tactically secure and sheltered form the weather at the same time. Spock, Pike, Gnall exchanged approving nods. It was 0800 hours and they could see the entire group busying themselves around the fire at the centre of the small circle of tents.

"I could take the pesky little one out, that would get them going." Walton suggested. Spock was about to protest, aware that that would be unprofessional but not particularly disturbed by the fact, when Walton stumbled slightly and a low siren went off. Momentarily startled, they all stared at each other for a few seconds. Pike was the first to grin widely, followed by Gnall and Chekov, and finally by a tiny smile on Spock's part. Only Walton looked like someone had just ruined his fun. When they refocused their attention on the camp, it was deserted. Spock's sensitive ears picked up frantic conversation from just above the tents, behind a well selected rock wall.

"What the fuck, don't tell me that's another one of those things?" He identified this as Kirk's voice.

"Nope, I think this is it. Scanner picks up five individuals, humanoid, technical development pre warp but weaponry more advanced than ours." Cadet McCoy.

"Oh that's bollocks, that's not how that would happen. Who'd prioritise that?" Newman.

"Well, a society merely based on aggression and…" Cadet Uhura was interrupted by Cadet Kirk:

"Ladies, focus. What'd we do?"

"Fight?" Cadet Gaila suggested.

"Well, there's five of them and six of us and we have the tactical advantage." McCoy surmised.

"Yea, but what about first contact protocol?' Uhura.

"Good point." Kirk.

A loud thump to their left alerted Spock that someone had created a distraction, Gnall and Walton, unaware of the whispered conversation taking place above them, fired at the offending object, which turned out to be nothing but a large dried branch. Gnall gave Spock a questioning look when he shushed her, he pointed to the rock wall, indicating the cadets position.

"Ok, definitely hostile." Newman.

"So, fight?" Gaila again.

"Well, hostile with superior weapons, no prior interaction, I think fighting is out." Spock felt marginally surprised to hear this, since the voice undoubtedly belonged to Cadet Kirk.

"I agree, we have no idea what a conflict could get us into, and even if they kill us all, you don't know what the long term consequences would be." Uhura.

"Give up? Really? I don't like the idea of that at all, I mean did you see them just pulverising that branch without even looking?" the high pitch to the male voice indicated that this was Cadet P'Grell.

"Not an option either, we have all our stuff with us, we can't let them get that." McCoy.

Spock was impressed; so far they were doing exceptionally well.

"What other option is there? I mean I'm all for trying to come to an amiable agreement, I could flash them and see what happens." Very obviously Cadet Gaila.

"I don't have enough data on the hostiles to conclude your boobs would have any effect on them, but my medical scanner tells me we have four males and one female down there. Three human, one Tellarite and one half human, half Vulcan, so you could chance it, but I suspect you'd get shot." McCoy sounded amused, not a very appropriate sentiment under the circumstances. Spock could hear some laughter and some giggles, then Cadet Gaila's voice announced:

"I reckon it would almost be worth it, just imagine pointy-ears' face, I bet you that guy has never seen a decent pair of tits in his life."

"Not sure he'd go for green, sweetie, I don't think that's his thing." P'Grell was clearly fighting not to laugh. Spock felt decidedly uncomfortable and was glad not to hear Newman's distinct laugh amidst the others. He did, however, hear her voice moments later:

"Focus, guys."

"Sheesh, no need to look so pissed, what crawled into your knickers." Cadet Gaila again.

"Right, fighting is a no, surrender is also a no, flashing, while fun, would at least get Gaila killed, and even though she doesn't seem to mind much, I still think that's a no." Kirk summarised succinctly.

"Only leaves one option." Newman.

"Seriously?" P'Grell.

"Yup. … Run away." There was a surprising lack of conversation after this and he only heard some shuffling and retreating footsteps and the small group appeared to have accepted Newman's and Kirk's conclusion and made their way down the other side of the outcrop.

"Search the camp." Spock indicated the tents, the siren was still blaring.

"What's going on, where are they?" Walton looked a little frustrated.

"Gone."

"Are you serious? They got it?" Walton did not appear to be pleased with the cadets' success. Pike on the other hand let out a little "whoop" and clapped his hands, Gnall smiled widely and Chekov could not help but point out:

"I told you so, now tell me 950 your ass." He was grinning from ear to ear with pride. Pike made his way over to the camp first then returned before any of them had a chance to join him.

"They've taken everything…. Oh and I think I have an idea of why they set up the trip wires. Spock would you kindly identify some tracks for me." He gave him a rather concerned look.

As he led them to the far side of the camp he indicated large claw marks on the ground "Please tell me that's not from a le-matya." Spock felt his stomach twist slightly, but relaxed as he studied the tracks more carefully.

"Only a sehlat."

"Oh, only." Pike seemed to apply sarcasm. "Well, then."

"If you are implying that they are just as dangerous I must inform you that you are mistaken."

"Just as – no, dangerous – yes. This should have been monitored."

"I agree, but they seem to have performed admirably well none the less."

"You can say that again." Pike took his communicator from his pocket.

"Captain Pike to 143, come in."

"Identification number and posting?" Newman's voice sounded fakely stern.

Pike complied, however, a wide grin on his face.

"Well good morning Sir, you'll never guess what happened to us today."

***

Starfleet had been granted accommodation by one of Vulcan's more prestigious universities, and Spock mused that the rooms to be occupied had quite possibly never seen such chaos. In the process of assigning rooms, a few small administrative problems had cropped up – on the side of Starfleet, not that of the university, of course – and some cadets were left without rooms for the time being. Taking up position in the lobby of the building, they were busying themselves with a variety of nonsensical pastimes. Some of the cadets earned themselves patronising glances form the assembled Vulcan students for chasing each other around the communal seating area and Spock had to force down a small pang of shame.

Spock was about to retreat to his own room, having no further desire to witness the infantile behaviour of his mostly human charges, when he heard soft music coming from the distant corner of the room. Cadets Newman and Gaila were both seated on their luggage amidst their friends and were playing an acoustic guitar and an Orion harp respectively. Intrigued, he made his way closer, but remained out of direct sight by staying close to the wall to their left and slightly behind them. Closing her eyes Newman began to put words to the tune they had been playing, with Gaila joining in at intervals to put harmonies to the refrain. He had heard them sing before, during that shuttle ride to Darius 13, but their singing then had been more of a crude way to keep themselves amused and to irritate their companions. This particular performance was markedly different; the soft quality to both voices had been absent previously, as had Newman's emotional intensity that gave her voice an undeniable and insistent force, it made its way deep into the pit of Spock's stomach. Still holding her eyes closed, Aureya's voice broke pleasantly on the line "Will you stay with me? Will you be my love among the fields of barley?" Spock was by now leaning against the wall behind him, his arms crossed in front of his chest. He had to fight the urge to close his eyes in turn and was contemplating how much of his enjoyment could be linked to his personal regard for the singer, but noting that a substantial amount of Starfleet cadets as well as Vulcan students had stopped whatever they were doing and had tentatively congregated around the two young women, he concluded that only his more physical reactions were due to Aureya alone. He was aware of the fact that he was smiling, and was contemplating readjusting his facial muscles, when a voice next to him startled him:

"Fascinating, your extended exposure to human contact appears to have decreased your stoic disposition." The young woman standing next to him, observing him with a mixture of curiosity and mild surprise, both masterfully suppressed and only visible to the trained Vulcan eye, was painfully familiar.

"Live long and prosper, T'Pring."

"Live long and prosper, Spock." Her expression was not condescending or judgmental as he would have expected, she merely continued to observe him in an analytic fashion.

"These are your students?" She asked.

"Some of them are, yes."

Newman and Gaila had just finished their song and were rewarded with loud applause, not only form their fellow cadets but from the assembled Vulcans as well. Newman looked positively startled, having only opened her eyes again at the end of the song and clearly having been unaware of the size of her audience. There were calls for "more" from their friends, and with a shrug Cadet Gaila began another song, with Newman joining in a few moments later. This one was an upbeat tune, much faster in pace and interactive in the lyrics.

"You have some vested interest in the young half Orion woman." T'Pring stated this as if it were an observation rather than a question and Spock wondered just how long she had been watching him and quite how obvious he must have been while watching Aureya.

He decided not to go into any detail and merely gave T'Pring a stern look and clarified:

"Nothing I intend to act upon."

She merely nodded at this.

"I am grateful for the fact that you have obtained accommodation for us here, T'Pring, it is very much appreciated." He informed her, effectively changing the subject.

"You are very welcome, Spock. I believe some close contact with Starfleet cadets can be nothing but beneficial to our students. I have to remark that I was a little dubious as to their compatibility when I observed some peculiar behaviour earlier, but I am glad to see that there are common interests." Here she indicated the two young women, then a group of Vulcan students who had now taken seats, an expression of pleased concentration on their faces.

"Indeed. First impressions can be most deceiving."

Cadets Newman and Gaila were now battling through increasingly fast paced lyrics and were both in serious danger of succumbing to laughter despite the fact that the refrain kept repeating the words "It's the end of the world". They did, however, manage to finish the song and were once again rewarded with applause, presumably more in admiration for their playing than their slightly frantic singing. Aureya gave a quick bow, then turned to the seated Vulcan students and asked:

"I presume you are familiar with the idea of cultural exchange?" She gave them her big genuine grin despite the fact that she knew it would not be reciprocated.

One of the young men in the group rose likewise and cocked an eyebrow:

"You are implying a musical exchange?"

"Indeed." She smiled again.

"Very well, wait here." He nodded briefly at his companions, who rose in turn and left, only to return a few moments later with an assortment of flutes, lutes and harps. Some of the other cadets had unearthed their own instruments, and taking turns, first in small groups of the same origin, but later as part of mixed sets of Vulcan lute, guitar, Orion harp, Earth and Vulcan flute, and violin, the time required to reallocate accommodation was spent in an admirable effort of interstellar communication.

"Fascinating." T'Pring noted.

"Yes she is, isn't she?" Spock responded, marginally aware of the fact that this might not be what she had implied.

***

The date for the Lennox Challenge had been postponed twice; adverse weather conditions and an increased risk of severe sand storms in the rather remote stretch of desert designated for the race had meant an extended stay for Starfleet cadets and staff. No one seemed to mind in particular, and the tentative friendships formed during the accommodation crisis managed to hold even after a week. Spock observed that both Cadet Newman as well as Ensign Chekov were admirably versed in identifying and dealing with potential misunderstandings and attributed their skill at handling Vulcan misconceptions and human ignorance to their extensive knowledge of his own person.

After 8 days of waiting, the date for the Challenge was finally confirmed, and while there was still a possibility of storms, the weather was predicted to remain stable. Not part of this year's panel, Spock was observing the line up at the starting position from the stands. His father and mother had joined him, he had, however, not yet had an opportunity to speak with the former, for which he was marginally grateful. His mother appeared to have difficulty containing her excitement.

"Oh, it's been such a long time since I've been to anything like this." As was her custom she hid her smile behind her hand.

"Anthropologically fascinating, but hardly worth your emotional effusions." Spock detected a certain note of derision in his father's voice. His mother, however, had perfected the art of ignoring him and merely gave Spock a slightly subdued smile.

"So you know some of the contestants?" she enquired with feigned ignorance.

"Mother, I have already informed you that I know a number of them. There is Cadet Morton, who is in my advanced Vulcan class, Cadets Wassermann and Pamento who are in my Intermediate Mathematics, and …"

"I was referring to the one student of yours I have actually met, dear." His mother looked mildly amused.

"If you are alluding to my student aide, then yes, she is the on board engineer for the red and blue glider starting in third position." He indicated the small craft but managed to remain entirely non-committal in expression and tone of voice.

"There are two main engineers for that particular entry, but I believe Ms Newman was selected for the crew on account of her being half the size of her partner." Somehow he did not particularly like referring to P'Grell as her "partner".

"It appears that you are well informed about some minor details of this peculiar and primitive display, I assumed that we were at least agreed in our disregard for such strange rituals, it appears that in this, too, I have been mistaken." 14 years of silence, and his father chose this to be the first sentence to speak to his son. Spock fought the urge to defend himself, to agree with his father's assessment, to clarify that being familiar with was in no way the same as supporting something.

"Indeed, father, you have been mistaken." Spock felt somewhat childish for leaving his answer so vague, open to interpretation, but this way at least, he had not bent the truth.

The start signal made his mother jump a little, and he noticed she was stifling a small giggle of excitement. On the large screens positioned all around them they could observe as the gliders took off in a cloud of dust and sand. Spock focused on not letting his interest show, concentrating on keeping his face relaxed and the tension in his clasped hands on his lap well hidden. As the gliders rounded the first turn marked out by metal poles set in a rather tight curve, one, a green and white glider with a distinctly attention catching design to its front, slid off course, sparks emitting from its side. The announcer informed them: "And Roberts is out!"

"The side and rear thrusters on these gliders are apparently very delicate, or so I have been informed." Spock leaned towards his mother and informed her quietly; his father's responding look of distaste was not lost on him.

As the race progressed, the gliders spit into three distinct fields, to his secret delight, Newman's and P'Grell's glider was firmly positioned in the leading field, wavering consistently between first, second, and third position. He was so focused on the race that a collection of gasps from the crowd made him start minutely. Before he had time to look around and ascertain the reason for such a reaction, all the screens had already focused in on the large wall of sand making straight for the line of gliders. This was by no means the type of sandstorm predicted as possible by the meteorologists. The only possible reason as to why such a gross misjudgement was conceivable on their part, was the fact that they were in the heart of the Vulcan desert, where freak storms and adverse conditions could arise at a moment's notice. This should have been taken into account.

Spock now stood, eyes glued on the screens in disbelief. His mother was tugging on his arm, and turning to look at her he noticed that the audience was making a rather hasty retreat towards the small shelters, which had fortunately been provided for them. Mildly relieved that such precautions had been taken despite the erroneous forecast.

"Oh dear God." He heard his mother breathe. Returning his gaze to the screens he noted that the wall had grown, that behind the first wave of sand, there was a second, larger one. His stomach seemed to drop and he kept his eyes focused on the gliders, now appearing impossibly small before the roaring mass ploughing towards them.

"Spock, please!" The stands around them were empty; his mother was pulling on his arm, frantic now. His father was standing just behind her, face stony and clearly resolved not to move until they did. The wind had picked up, blowing sand around them in biting swirls. He knew he had to move, knew that if he did not, his mother would stay were she was, and so would his father. He directed his focus to the screens one last time, observing the gliders circling, drawing closer into a small spiral, getting into formation, just as the first wave hit and swallowed them. His throat had gone completely dry, his mind blank, he could do nothing but close his eyes and let his mother pull him away.

They were the last to enter the shelter, the doors closed and sealed hermetically behind them. Still in shock, he stumbled towards one of the benches by the wall. To his left he could hear Cadet P'Grell yelling into his communicator, his voice breaking at regular intervals. He could not focus enough to hear what he was shouting, the younger man's voice was merely a monotonous drone in his ears now. Cadet Gaila was next to P'Grell, hands over her face, rocking slightly. He heard voices coming from the communicator, frantic, pitched higher than they should have been, and then there it was, _her_ voice, cutting through the drone like a small blade. She was cursing, … of course she was. Then nothing; static. He heard a sound like the whimper of a wounded animal and it took him a few seconds to realise that it was coming from his own mouth. His mother held his hand tightly but he barely noticed the pressure. No one appeared to have taken any notice of his unusual display, and even if they had, he wouldn't care. He let his head fall against the wall behind him, it landed with a loud thump, but he felt no pain, every part of him had gone numb. He closed his eyes, allowing his surrounding to fade away, he was marginally aware of his father's eyes on him, he had been mistaken in thinking no one had noticed his unusual behaviour, nothing escaped Sarek. Not opening his eyes, Spock marvelled at how little his father's opinion mattered to him at this moment.


	16. Peppermint and Break Ins

**A/N: OK, I know, this took forever again, but I had it written down in handwriting and just procrastinated on the typing it up (It's not my favourite thing in the world). Also, I've been sent off for training rather unexpectedly and that has messed with my routine a tad (or a lot, really). Well, in short: Sorry for the delay.**

**Anyways, we've finally reached the movie. I've decided not to include any actual scenes in this chapter, and have written it so it fits into the movie i.e.: the Kobayashi Maru scene from the film works with this fic. I won't keep doing that though, because clearly this is very AU, and whatever happened in the film to make Kirk pass the KM, it obviously wasn't this. (It just would not have been different enough to write it again)**

**Also, I wanted to include the office scene (see end of chapter) and the scene where Spock accuses Kirk in this chapter, but it got too long and I thought you might appreciate an update… so… next time.**

**Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed!**

**Please enjoy, and forgive the long delay.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek or any of its characters.**

The wall of sand seemed to appear out of thin air.

"Holy shit!" Kirk almost dropped the steering, but Eya and Reuben barely noticed the slight wiggle the glider performed as they stared open mouthed at what looked like a red-brown squall. The com started crackling and Shrem's voice, even shriller than usual, made her jump.

"Shit guys, this is off the charts, I have no reading on it, but it's moving way too fast. Is there any shelter, a rock formation or anything you can see? My readings give me nothing."

"Fuck!" Reuben was frantically typing at his console, but from his exclamation and the look on his face, only half of which was visible to Aureya from her position behind him, she could tell that his readings too were coming up blank.

"Link us in to the whole set." Eya told him.

"Done."

Kirk took the initiative and shouted into the com:  
"Ok, anyone got any ideas, 'cause we got nothing!" Aureya was surprised at the force behind his voice; her own vocal cords had given way to a mass of Jell-O when she had spoken.

"We have a grappling hook, but I don't really think that'll do much good." Morton's voice was cracking slightly.

"We've got a minor shield projector, might be able to expand that." Ardson sounded freaked and optimistic in equal measure.

"I just got a rock plate under the sand!" Reuben shouted, still typing frantically.

"Any more hooks? One isn't going to hold us, but if we get into formation and hook into the rock, expand the shield, and sit tight, we might just have a chance." Kirk was all business now.

"Yea!" came the answer from two separate gliders.

"We have two." Came another reply a few seconds behind the others.

"Ok, five hooks, what else?"

Eya leaned forward towards the com, so she could inform everyone, not just her own crew:

"We have a small tractor beam, I can modify that to hold us all together."

"Well, get on it!" Kirk barked. She threw him a small salute and was not even entirely sure she was mocking him, as she slid to the ground. The gliders were now circling each other and moving closer into formation, aiming their noses into the centre just above where Reuben had detected the plate.

"I have a reading!" P'Grell's voice came over the com. "First wave will hit in about 30 seconds, you should be able to hold for that, then you have about five and a half minutes until the main one hits, there should be a total flout in between."

"In position!" Kirk roared. The wind was now beating sand against the metal hull like it was rain, creating a noise as if they were in a grinder.

"You done?" Jim briefly glanced back at her. Making her final adjustments, Eya gave him a curt nod, then slid back into her seat and activated the beam from her control panel. There was a loud clang form their left as Wassermann's glider knocked into them; the beam was holding them together but not steady.

"Hooks in position." Reuben called.

"Ok, we need to get on the ground, on my command."

They did not have the time to execute the order as the first wave hit. The metal shell groaned and the gliders were thrust together with loud bangs, almost drowned out by the roar of sheets of sand blasting over their hulls.

"Fuck!" Ardson's voice croaked from the com. "We can't get the shield up."

Wasserman cut in from their glider "I don't know how to get the expansion modem in there." Her voice was barely audible over the screeching of straining metal.

"Just take the modulator out and link the whole thing up to the modem with the same wires." P'Grell's voice was suddenly booming as an eerie stillness descended outside the gliders.

"To the ground! Now!" Kirk shouted.

Aureya felt her stomach lift as the entire circle dropped and landed on the sandy desert floor with a thud.

"Connect the what to the what?" Wassermann sounded hysterical, she was audibly fighting tears; Aureya was marginally aware that the only reason why her fellow second year could not remember what to do was because she had gone into shock.

"Oh, Heisenberg's dick, get me over there." She huffed, keeping an eye on the approaching second wall.

"Are you fucking out of you mind, that's way too da…" P'Grell's voice was cut off suddenly, only static emitted from the com unit.

"Fuck, is the com down?" Reuben sounded panicky.

"Well, we're still here" Ardson announced, "but our engineer has gone into a fit." He didn't sound callous, merely drained.

"Does everyone read?" Kirk called into the unit.

A chorus of "Read." Came back form the com.

"The first wave must have hit the external emitter, base camp is out." Aureya concluded. "Now get me the fuck over there, they are right beside us and we have a shot while the flout lasts."

"Ardson, get that hatch on our side open, now!" Kirk commanded, then he turned to Eya and threw a safety harness he had grabbed from beneath his seat at her.

"Just be careful." Jim gave her his genuine smile, then reached over and squeezed her hand, hard. She squeezed back.

Aureya slid along the metal floor towards the hatch and pulled it open. Ardson and Deveneux were directly opposite her, their hatch open as well, both reaching out their arms to her. She could make out Wassermann's heaving form behind them; she was clearly not recovered yet. As she leaned forward and grabbed Ardson's hand, she turned her head to the side and immediately wished she hadn't. There, in front of her, gliding towards them, pushing infernal noise into their deathly silent bubble was a heaving mass of sand, not so much resembling a storm as a living, breathing giant. Aureya could feel it sucking at her entire body, blowing her hair across her face and towards it. Without the glass of a cockpit window between them, she could almost imagine it reaching out its hungry claws.

"Eya!" Ardson's voice and a sharp tug brought her back to reality; she blinked and made the jump across the gap between the two gliders. Still slightly dazed by her moment of terrified paralysis, she crumpled on the metal floor as her legs gave way beneath her. Ardson and Deveneux fell to the ground with her, catching her.

"You OK?"

"Shit!" was all she managed. Disconnecting the lead from her safety harness, she shoved Wassermann aside rather forcefully and bent over the small, integrated shield generator. The procedure was standard, but her hands were shaking violently and the consistently building roar of the giant mass making its way towards them proved distracting. Her breathing was shallow and sweat was dripping down her face, and making her quivering hands slippery.

"50 seconds till impact." She heard Reuben shouting from the com unit.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" she silently cursed to herself as one of the wires slipped from her hand.

"30 seconds!" Her hands were trembling so badly, she could barely believe it when the final wire slid into place and the indicator light flashed green; she manually activated the shield.

The entire cluster of gliders was thrown backwards, as a sound like nothing she had ever heard before enveloped them; she could swear she heard screaming outside. Once again the gliders were thrown together, bumping off each other like marbles. Wasserman had begun to whimper once more, and as they were thrown from side to side and the metal groaned under the pressure, Aureya thought it best to just grab her, hold her to the ground and position herself above her, hoping that the physical contact would calm her and give her a sense of security. The other woman stilled slightly and her sobbing quietened.

"Shields are holding at 70%, all gliders intact!" Deveneux called from the front.

"60%, but holding" She called a few moments later. Aureya closed her eyes, almost grateful for Wassermann's hysterics, somehow she felt as if the other woman was crying enough for both of them so she didn't have to. Behind the searing red of her closed lids she only had a single thought: She had to get back to him, she had to see him again, she couldn't die like this. It didn't matter if nothing would ever happen between them, she just _had to_ get back to him.

A deafening screech echoed through the hull and the entire glider began to vibrate violently, one more screech and a gash appeared to their side where the side thrusters used to be.

"Fuck!" Ardson called form the front, as Aureya felt both Wassermann and herself, still in one heap on the floor, being sucked towards the gaping hole. Trying to gain purchase on the flat metal floor and failing miserably, while trying to keep Wassermann from strangling her with her vice like grip, Aureya only noticed Deveneux when she slid to the ground next to her, a safety harness around her torso and a spare line in hand which she hooked into Eya's harness. They now had Wassermann sandwiched between them and were holding her steady as the roar outside built to a crescendo. With a loud thump, the gliders were thrown to the ground once more, but this time the wind did not lift them again. Outside was only silence. Aureya looked into Deveneux's eyes, both of them were panting and clearly not yet willing to believe the fact that it was over.

"Yee haaw! Shields at 30%, but who gives a fuck, 'cause that was it, ladies and gentlemen. Readings indicate all gliders structurally intact and all life signs stable." Kirk's voice boomed from the com unit. Both women let their heads sink to the ground with a sigh and were laughing like maniacs within seconds. Wasserman, still wedged between them, had at least stopped crying.

"Chicks." Ardson noted from his position in the cockpit, but his voice was clearly shaky.

***

"Would you like another scoop? Oh, have some more." Amanda was practically force feeding her at this point, and considering the fact that she was nervous as hell and hadn't come with much of an appetite to begin with, coupled with the need to show her appreciation for the food and not refuse seconds, she was now feeling nauseous.

"Thank you, I really don't think…" A large portion of tasteless mush landed on her plate before she could finish her sentence, and Amanda squeezed her shoulder and gave her a warm smile:

"There you go, dear."

Oh dear void-less beyond, she was going to be sick.

Chekov gave her a sympathetic smile from right beside her, apparently Vulcan cuisine wasn't his thing either, while Sarek would not stop staring at her, he was clearly still trying to figure out what exactly she was doing at his table. Her stomach performed a little flip that had very little to do with the food.

"I highly commend your courage, it is quite a feat to perform technical adjustments under such pressure." The young woman across the table gave her a well-practiced smile that did not reach her eyes. She had been informed previously that this was Spock's bonded mate T'Pring, whose obvious beauty and poise made Aureya wonder if Spock wasn't slightly brain damaged to even look at another woman twice.

"Thank you." Her words came out mumbled and she could not look into the other woman's eyes.

"It is such a pleasure to have you here, T'Pring, it has been too long." Sarek deftly changed the subject.

"Five years, I believe." T'Pring commented, but looked slightly uncomfortable at the recollection. Glancing at Spock, who was positioned right beside his 'fiancée', she noticed that he too, looked a little out of sorts at the mention of this. 'Strange how adept she had become at reading Vulcan facial expressions.

She had not had the opportunity to speak with Spock in private, she had merely seen him for a few minutes after the medics had brought them back to base camp. He had grabbed her by the arm and had dragged her into one of the small treatment rooms of the improvised sick bay. He had not said a word, simply crushed her to him in a hug that she thought should have broken all her bones, and had leaned down and buried his face in her neck. She could feel her breathing become shamefully erratic and her heart practically stop, before taking off like a cross-galactic freight ship, hammering against her chest as if it were a caged animal, desperate to escape the confines of her ribs. His breath came in big gulps, as if he were trying to breathe in all of her, and she could suddenly feel one of his hands in her hair, shaking as it gently stroked the back of her head. She could not help it, a small whimper escaped her lips and he dropped her, turned on his heels and stormed out of the room without even looking at her. Her legs had buckled under her and she had slumped to the ground as if every last ounce of strength had just been sucked from her body. He had not spoken to her since.

An awkward silence had settled over the dinner table, with Pike and Chekov clearing their throats uncomfortably.

"Well, I don't know about all of you, but I could use a drink." Taylor announced, shoving her plate away and petting her stomach indulgently, which earned her what would pass for an outraged glare from Sarek, but brought forth a delighted little squeak from Amanda.

"See, I told you it was a good idea to stock up on off planet supplies." She told her husband triumphantly as she made her way to the kitchen.

"Did I say something controversial?" Taylor announced, fake innocence in her voice.

"I believe you are the Academy's leading anthropologist, is that correct?" Sarek asked, his tone minutely sharp.

"Well, I don't know about leading…" Taylor smiled modestly, waving her hand in the air in a small circle.

"Vulcans do not consume alcoholic beverages, we are opposed to all artificial stimulants and suppressants."

Pike snorted and slumped forward to hide his face, mumbling a muffled "sorry, sorry" at the tablecloth. Spock's hand twitched half way to his face as he apparently aborted placing it over his eyes and set it back down next to his plate again. Aureya felt her cheeks go hot and followed Pike's example in staring at her lap.

"Ah, well, yes, some Vulcans." Taylor informed him. Spock's hand found his face after all. Fortunately for him, his father merely looked puzzled.

---

Clearly uncomfortable with the relaxed atmosphere that had ensued at his dinner table, Sarek had excused himself early, throwing one last slightly uncertain look over the assembled guests. Aureya assumed that despite his years on earth, he was not all that comfortable around humans, which was a little peculiar seeing as he was married to one. Somehow all of this illuminated Spock's character and explained so many of his issues.

Spock himself was currently absent form the table, as was T'Pring, since she had asked for a private conversation. Aureya was staring at her glass of disgustingly sweet peppermint liqueur and biting the inside of her cheek anxiously. Captain Pike kept glancing in her direction with the most unnerving expression on his face, and she had to stop herself from spitting a nerve induced and venomous "What!!!??" at him. Trying to calm herself by taking long, drawn out breaths she recited in her head:

"None of my business, this is none of my business. He's alive and well, so am I, that's all that matters. He can talk with, fuck, and marry whoever he wants, none of my business." It wasn't working so well, and as she heard Spock's voice from beyond the dining room, she had to fight the urge to crane her neck to see if he was returning to the table.

"… quite fortunate…" She heard him say.

"I would not have broached the subject under any other circumstances, I am beyond relieved that we have this in common. Fortunate indeed." Was T'Pring's response, and an ugly green-eyed monster was gnawing at Aureya's gut at the other woman's words. Spock and T'Pring had indeed returned to the dining table, and Aureya could detect that miniscule crinkle around Spock's eyes that told her he was pleased. As he sat down he gave T'Pring a little sideways nod, the one he used to indicate a feeling of connectedness and agreement. The horrible little critter just kept chewing on Eya's insides. She attempted her little mantra again, but failed miserably. Her mind was screaming with hurt and outrage.

_How dare he! How dare he turn her knees to rubber, make her hyperventilate and almost faint one moment, and then happily discuss some pre-marital bullshit with his far too pretty mate. _

Aureya only noticed too late that she was glaring at Spock and that he had noticed. He raised one eyebrow in puzzlement, but the look he gave her was still pleased and slightly smug, and the corner of his mouth gave a little twitch as if he were about to smile.

The green-eyed creature in her stomach swallowed her up in one big gulp. All attempts to convince herself that there was nothing she could do, that she had never held out any hope in the first place, were wearing thin. The lies she had told herself were evaporating into nothing. Fury, hurt and frustration mixed with the forbidden notion of utter possessiveness that made her want to bang T'Pring's head on the table and screech at her to get her elegant, clean hands of _her_ man, simply took over. The only way to channel these emotions was to remember that Kirk's third attempt at the Kobayashi Maru was only four weeks away, and that she could at least make Spock pay for causing her such pain. She would wipe that near smile off his face and crush his stupid Vulcan superiority like a bug between her fingers. She would show him that she was not some toy he could pick up and then drop at random. And if this meant no sleep for the foreseeable future, well then so be it. She would work around the clock if she had to.

Grasping the small glass before her, she knocked the horrid sugary liquid back and then banged the empty glass at the table; a small growl escaped her as the warmth of the alcohol spread through her stomach. She hoped her little friend down there was comfortable; he would have to keep her going for what was to come.

***

Aureya's head landed on Chekov's desk with a loud "whack"; startled and decidedly in pain she gingerly felt for the spot just above her left eyebrow where her forehead had connected with the wood.

"Ow."

She didn't have the energy to put enough emphasis on her exclamation and sounded more confused than in pain.

"You are starting to scare me a little, Eya. First you don't vant to do this whole thing, then you do, then you don't again, and now you are practically obsessed. Vhat is going on? And vhen was the last time you slept?"

"Tuesday, I think." Aureya pointedly ignored Pavel's first question and only answered the second. "But we're so close, I can practically taste it." Still rubbing her forehead, Aureya gave Chekov what she hoped was an encouraging smile. Judging by his reaction it wasn't particularly successful.

"I don't know, I still don' t think this is a good idea." He gave her a, for him very unusual, frown then poured her another cup of coffee, she had lost track of quite how many she'd had that day. Quite honestly, she was sort of loosing track of the day itself.

As it happened, they broke the code a mere two days before the exam. Luckily, Shrem and Jim had spent most of the build up to the exam, focusing on their task of planning just how to get Aureya into the simulation mainframe building. So while Pavel, Gaila and Aureya had been endlessly slaving away at the security codes and programme overrides, P'Grell and Kirk had been studying blueprints and security rotation schedules. Bones and Uhura were also kept busy, since they would be part of Kirk's bridge crew and had to rehearse lines; as they were the only two members of their little group who were not directly involved in any of the technical details of their little coup, they were the safest candidates to be visibly involved in Kirk's third attempt at the Kobayashi Maru. It still stood to reason though, that they would have to act as clueless as possible to divert any possible suspicion of their involvement once the exam was completed and the security breach investigated.

With Kirk's exam set for a Tuesday afternoon, the only safe time for the actual brake in was Monday evening, too close for comfort as far as Aureya was concerned. But considering that she would be entering the Simulation and Recreation Building through a vent connecting it to the Communications Lab using Uhura's sign in code, this was her only option if she didn't want her friend's code to pop up suspiciously on a Sunday sign in record. No trace of evidence could connect any of them to the whole thing. Of course Jim would be under particular scrutiny, and it would be clear that he had done something, but as long as there was not even a shred of evidence, what did it matter?

Unrolling the black fabric of her tool pouch and checking its contents for the third time that evening, a small sigh escaped Aureya.

"Are you really sure about this, sweetheart?" Jim, who was sitting on her bed and staring rather intently at her hands, having, no doubt, noticed the small trembling in them, gave the sentence all the meaning Aureya needed to hear in it: It told her that he would not blame her if she chose to opt out at the last minute, it told her that this was a mad thing to do and that if she was not 100% convinced, than she shouldn't do it. And because he gave her a way out, she smiled at him and said:

"Yea, I'm sure." Then she rolled up the pouch and attached it to her belt, put on her dark gloves and gave him her most determined nod.

"Let's do this."

---

As she crawled along the narrow metal vent, her gloved hands making low thumping sounds, and tried not to curse into her earpiece, just so she wouldn't freak out Kirk and P'Grell too much who had set up their equipment just behind the Rec Centre so their signal could not be traced to anyone's quarters, her nerves finally got the better of her and her mind began to berate her:

_This is by far the most idiotic thing you have ever done! Any sane woman would simply eat outrageous amounts of chocolate, cry a little, eat more chocolate, cry some more, and then change her hairstyle and move on. _

_But oh no! You have to break into a secure Starfleet facility, mess with highly advanced and protected software in order to make a famously difficult simulation crash, just because some guy wasn't willing to abandon a lifetime's worth of pride and tradition in order to screw you. Smart girl!_

_Never mind the fact that any possible number of things could go wrong and you and all your friends could be chucked out of Starfleet, if not outright court-marshalled and locked up. Brava, brava!_

She briefly wondered why her mind was being so pompous, before she muttered to herself:

"Oh sweet Andromeda's ass, I should have gone for therapy instead."

"Huh?" Shrem's rather puzzled voice came from the small com in her ear.

"Therapy." Aureya whispered back "I said we all need therapy."

"Amen to that." Jim's voice sounded too loud in her head but his statement made her smile none the less. Then she froze. And finally cursed outright:

"Oh holy fuck!" Stuck on all fours in a vent between the Rec Centre and the Simulation main hub, she was staring at a tool kit not her own and an open maintenance panel.

"What?" Shrem's voice had gone up an octave, a sure sign of nerves.

"I would really have appreciated a heads up on the fact that there is tech support up here." Aureya hissed, trying to keep her voice as low as possible but cringing when she made a little squeaky noise on the word "up".

"Shit!" This one was Jim.

There was a distinct thump from somewhere ahead of her, which turned into a rhythmic "whack-whack-whack" of bare hands on sheet metal. Thanking her genes for making her double jointed all over, Aureya managed to turn in the narrow vent and then speed crawl back in the direction of the Rec Centre like a toddler on acid. She was grateful for her gloves too, which muffled the sound of her own hands hitting the vent considerably.

"Fuck, guys, someone tell me what to do." This time she managed not to have her voice break or squeak.

"There should be a hatch down into the corridor outside one of the simulation rooms about three meters form you, just turn right at the fork coming up." Shrem's voice clearly sounded less confident than he had intended it to.

"Are you insane, you want me to go down there? In full view?"

"All the lights are dimmed and there is no surveillance, only security rounds, and you have,….um, …. about 15 minutes until the next one."

"Oh God, you are insane." She hissed, but then caught the sound of a voice behind her, still a good bit away but clearly getting closer; She only caught the words "might", "intruder", and "check", presumably spoken into a com, but it was enough, she really didn't have a choice here. Paddling into the vent to her right, she made it to the hatch in a few seconds, yanked it open while not being able to suppress a small curse under her breath, and slid down the access ladder the way they had been taught in engineering. The hatch closed automatically and silently behind her. Staying close to the wall she made her way down the corridor, testing every door she passed. She finally found one that opened with a low beep and snuck inside, realising almost immediately that it was a maintenance closet, presumably left unlocked by the tech officer audibly making his way towards her, judging by the distinct clacking of Starfleet issue boots growing steadily louder outside the little room. Aureya squeezed into the far corner, right up against some shelves and closed her eyes; she could literally see her career flashing before her eyes. To her immense relief the clacking began to fade away again as the officer made his way right past the closet. Aureya let out the breath she had been holding.

"Now what?" she whispered into her com.

"It's up to you, you still have 12 minutes, and it never took you more than 7 during practice, but you have to decide." Jim sounded genuine, once again giving her to option of calling it quits.

"Damn it, I'm already here." Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and silent slid back into the corridor, making her way the last few meters to the control room which housed the simulation main frame. Gaila's hacked access code worked like a charm and she let herself into the small room full of consoles. She was only familiar with the large room beyond the observation window, where all of their engine room simulations took place, so she took a moment to get her bearing. Identifying the main console, she slipped off one of the lower panels, granting her access to the main modem. She momentarily considered the fact that Spock would be working on the exact same console tomorrow, but as the thought made her heart race even more and turned her pals clammy, she pushed it back down. She diverted some of the cables from the modem into her PDA, then ran a programme to erase all the data from the disconnection. Finally she accessed the file with the amended software and initiated download.

"OK guys, give me two minutes." There was only silence at the other end, then a high pitched and drawn out "Oh-oh" from Shrem.

"What?"

"Shit!" Jim this time.

"What???!!!"

"Eya you need to get out of there. Now. Security has change course, you have two officers making their way towards you from opposite directions." Shrem's voice did a little somersault on the word "two".

"Oh holy crap." Reflexively Aureya reached for her PDA, then stopped herself at the last minute, her hand clenching and unclenching in frustration.

"I can't disconnect the program before it's fully run, otherwise the system will record a breach and the alarms will go off."

"Shit!" Jim again.

Aureya began hyperventilating, but at that precise moment a small icon popped up on her PDA, letting her know the program had downloaded successfully. Quit frantic now, Eya pulled out the wires and reconnected the modem, then grabbed her tool kit and replaced the access panel.

"Done. Where to?" she hissed into her com.

"Nowhere. Hide." Jim had barely barked out the order when Aureya could hear that all too familiar clacking of boots on laminate flooring again. She practically dove behind one of the consoles to her right when the door to the small room opened with a beep. There was a moment of complete silence, and Eya had to place a hand over her mouth to control her heavy breathing. Then the door closed with a distinct whoosh, and she could hear footsteps retreating down the hallway. She barely had time to recover before Shrem's voice was back in her ear, clearly nervous as hell now.

"OK, next guy is on his way, you have about two minutes, there is no way you'll get lucky twice." They all knew the security officer had taken a short cut by not checking the control room properly; there was no chance of this happening again.

"Get to the Rec Centre, there is a second vent going back to the Communications Lab right outside the squash courts." Jim instructed her.

"And Eya,…. Run."

He didn't have to tell her twice, she could already hear approaching footsteps once again. Sprinting out of the room and sticking to the darker part of the corridor, Aureya ran as quickly as her short legs would carry her, once again she had to thank her genetic make up for rendering her footfall almost completely silent. Fortunately the same could not be said for the person behind her, and Eya had a fairly good idea exactly where he or she was at all times.

In the end she managed to crawl up a ladder and lie down flat on top of the access hatch of the vent with merely seconds to spare. Panting heavily and placing her cheek on the cold metal, she wanted nothing so much as to go to sleep. She made it back to the Communications Lab and out through the main entrance without any further difficulties. It was not until four o'clock that night that she sat bolt upright in her bed and remembered that she had forgotten to run the scrambling program a second time, obscuring the programming alterations and more importantly the host id of her PDA. She had effectively left her calling card smack bang in the middle of the shield configurations for the Klingon birds of prey.

***

The next few days were pure torture. She had contacted Kirk first thing the following morning, and informing him that they were essentially screwed. Kirk decided that he might as well take the exam as it would make no difference now, and seeing that only the two of them were compromised. Aureya applauded his balls, but felt like crying anyway.

This had occurred four days ago. Kirk had apparently wowed everyone with his cocky performance and they had all gotten terribly drunk to celebrate. Jim and Eya had decided not to ruin everyone's mood by keeping the little fact that they would not be in Starfleet for much longer to themselves; no need to upset the others, they at least were safe.

That had been the day of the actual exam. Since then: Nothing. Aureya was practically going out of her mind at this stage. Every lecture or workshop she took only made her more aware of how much she truly loved Starfleet, how incredibly stupid it had been to risk all of this for the sake of a broken heart.

And then _he_ summoned her to his office.


	17. The L Word

**A/N: Ok, so this took way longer than expected, training was tough and I'm glad I'm back to my normal routine. Anyways, this really is the end of the previous chapter; I obviously underestimated how long this was going to be. I did something a little different with the whole narrator thingy, hope you guys don't mind.**

'**Haven't had a chance to reply to any reviews over the last two weeks, since I was rushed off my feet, and I figure you'd rather have me finish the story. (OK, even I think that is a horrible excuse, particularly since I like reviews so much, but if I have a spare hour I'd rather get on with the plot, there's only a few more chapters to go.)**

**I'm getting a little close to an M rating in this one, but I reckon you guys won't mind (unless I did it badly, in which case TELL ME!)**

**Disclaimer: I own squat. (That is such a lie! I own Eya, Shrem, Taylor, Lennox, … yay!)**

*******

**Aureya**

Aureya's first attempt to open the door to Spock's office failed miserably; her hand was shaking so violently she kept pressing the wrong numbers on the access panel. Halfway through her second attempt, and just after she had earned herself a beep of protest from the abused lock, the door slid open with a low whoosh. Eya could not suppress a small 'eep' sound of her own as the door revealed Commander Spock, looming over her with an expression on his face she had never seen there before. His facial muscles, usually relaxed in what looked like boredom most of the time, and only occasionally approached mild bemusement, were tensed into a stone like mask, emotionless but terrifying in equal measure; Aureya took a step back. In a bizarre move he mirrored her action but turned sideways at the same time, so as to unblock the way into his office, silently indicating her usual spot opposite his desk. Aureya had to swallow the lump forming in her throat and take a deep breath, then she cursed silently to give herself some courage and marched straight to her spot, plonked herself down and gave him her most innocent expression:

"You wanted to see me, Sir."

Spock had not moved from his position next to the now once again closed door, he was studying her intently and when his eyes came to rest on hers, giving her the impression that his gaze would singe off her lashes and make her eyeballs pop by boiling the liquid inside them, she had to blink hard and leave her eyes closed for a moment, simply to escape the searing black-brown of his irises. She couldn't quite decide how she felt about the fact that he looked as if he was about to murder her; in some perverse and incredibly sick way, she got a kick out of the fact that she had at least done something to his composure.

"You intend to feign ignorance of the reason I have asked you here, I presume?" There was a new edge to his voice, a certain colouring to his words that sounded as if it would either freeze and shatter anything it touched or slice through metal. Aureya felt her heart threatening to fly out of her chest by way of her throat.

"No, Sir, I do not. But you will understand if I request that you bring my full list of charges before me, prior to any response I may wish to give." Her left knee was doing that ridiculous little jig again, hopping up and down uncontrollably so that she had to clamp both hands down on it; not much comfort that, since her hands were still trembling like newly hatched chickens.

Spock emitted a noise that if she had not known to be impossible, Aureya would have called something between a laugh, a groan, and a snort.

"And what charges are you referring to, precisely, Cadet Newman?" His gaze had travelled to her shaking hands, his head was tilted to the side and his mouth had taken on a certain cruel curve. Impossibly quickly he snapped his eyes back up to hers and Aureya sucked in a breath through her teeth.

"You are asking me to implement myself?" She could feel her lips tremble as she asked the question.

Again, he remained silent, merely glaring at her, cutting into her flesh with his eyes. Aureya's breathing had become erratic at this point, and she could only attribute her next words to a certain lack of oxygen.

"Very well, I broke the security code for the Kobayashi Maru, re-jigged the shield configuration for the Klingon ships, broke into the simulation mainframe and messed with your exam, happy?" The words had rushed out of her in an attempt to shift that expression from his face, to pour some water onto the flames dancing in his eyes; they had the opposite effect. With two strides of his long legs he was standing right in front of her, when he bent downward to bring his face level with hers, Aureya had to fight the urge to close her eyes.

"Happy?!" His breath washed over her and she had to suppress a whimper. "You do not have the first notion of what you have done. … And do not think for even one moment that I am foolish enough to believe that you did this on your own. Who else was involved?"

Aureya had no idea if she had gone insane, but she actually gave a sarcastic chuckle at his inquiry.

"Have any of our previous interactions lead you to believe that there is even a snowball's chance in hell that I would answer that question?"

_Yup, she had definitely gone mad._

He merely gave a low growl in response, and Aureya had to fight down another little moan as it attempted to leave her mouth. She had an image of herself as a small fuzzy bunny on its back before the big bad wolf, pleading "eat me, eat me", before she could gather herself enough to focus on reality.

Once again moving too quickly, Spock straightened, spun around on his heel, and took a step towards his desk; he picked up a small memory chip, held it up for her to see and then snapped it in two, and tossed the fragments at her.

Aureya merely opened her mouth in confusion, then looked at her lap where the two small glittering pieces had landed, then back at Spock, her mouth still wide.

"Congratulations, Ms Newman, you have made a complete fool of me. Admittedly,… not in the way you had planned, but I believe on closer inspection this turn of events will prove even more satisfactory. Not only have you succeeded in corrupting my program, you have also managed to corrupt me. I should mention that I used to pride myself on my moral integrity and my strict adherance to rules and regulations. So, let me congratulate you again on your feat of destroying both of these qualities in me."

Aureya had gone completely rigid, her hands had balled into fists and her jaw had locked, it was with some effort that she managed to spit out her question:

"What did you do?" It sounded almost like a growl, like a threat.

"I believe it is quite obvious. I tracked all traceable evidence of your break in, erased it from the mainframe modem, and just now, I destroyed it."

Aureya was out of her seat as if she had been stung.

"No" She did not manage more than a whisper, then swallowed and shook her head, over and over again.

"No!" she could feel tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

"Why would you do that? I never… You shouldn't… No!!!!" She took a few breaths, more like gasps, then squared her shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes.

"How dare you! It is bad enough that I'm being an idiot, but what in the world possessed you to be one too? I'm not going to let you do this, I'd rather turn myself in and…"

"That would be unwise." He had his hands folded behind his back now but his face still showed the strain of keeping his emotions in check.

"Should you choose to do so, I would be forced to reveal my own involvement in destroying evidence." He stated this as if it were the most logical thing in the world. Aureya's hands clenched an unclenched in frustration, tears of anger were streaming down her face. She had to suck her breath in in loud pathetic gulps that could easily be mistaken for sobs.

"This is complete insanity!" Her mind had gone completely blank and foggy; she merely stood there staring at him, willing her breathing to slow. A dull ache in her right hand momentarily distracted her, looking down she noticed four small red crescents in the palm of her hand where her nails had broken the skin. Looking back up at him she briefly closed her eyes, she could taste the faint saltiness of her tiers and felt them dry on her face, taking one final deep breath to steady herself, she looked back at Spock's face.

"In this case, Sir, I regret to inform you that I am hereby withdrawing from the Academy, I deem myself unfit for duty and without the necessary character strength to become a Starfleet officer. I will, of course, follow the generally accepted protocol to…"

Aureya's instincts kicked in as she saw Spock lunge for her, she managed to sidestep but he was too quick for her, adjusting his movements and grasping her painfully hard by her upper arms, he practically lifted her of the ground spun her around and literally threw her into his desk. The impact of her rear hitting the sharp edge of the wooden surface not only caused Aureya to gasp in pain, it also sent some of the small ornaments neatly arrange there clattering to the floor. She had barely time to follow one of them with her eyes, when her entire field of vision was obscured by Spock's body leaning down into her as he yanking her face upwards by burying his hand in her hair and giving it a sharp tug. His face was a mere inch from her own, his heavy breath ghosting over her lips, but this time Aureya would not buckle. She kept her eyes on his, meeting his glare with her own, refusing to be intimidated by what she saw in the dark depths of his gaze. He closed the distance between them, both lowering his head to hers as well as pulling her towards him. He had never once been gentle with her but this was a different matter entirely. His free hand on her lower back, he put his entire weight onto her while pulling her hips forward, making her recline on the desk while pressing his body down onto hers. His mouth on hers was viscous, biting her lips and pushing his tongue into her mouth as if he were trying to devour her. She was vaguely aware that one part of her brain was actually terrified of him, but the other, much larger part, was desperate for every touch, every bite, and every lick. Allowing him to fully push her down on his desk, leaving her hands free, she reached up to rake her fingers through his hair while arching her back to press her body further into his. She caught his lower lip between her teeth and bit down, hard. He growled into her mouth and she could taste the faint salt and copper of his blood, and as he pushed his hips harder into her, she could feel just how much of an effect she was having on him. A wave of heat made its way from her centre up her chest and across her face, quivering across her lips and making her vision blurry. This was what she had wanted, this was her triumph, and yet she could feel stray thoughts edging their way into her mind, unbidden, uninvited, and unwelcome.

He tore his mouth from hers, pushing her hair away from her face as he kissed down her jaw, along her neck, biting the sensitive spot just behind her ear, and she had to stop her eyes from rolling back into her head as a low whimper escaped her lips.

"You are ruining me." His voice was rough, breaking with the emotion in it and fragmented by his heavy breathing, and the thoughts lurking at the fringes of her awareness came crashing in:

_She was asking too much. She wanted too much. She had never intended to make him complicit in her madness. He had told her time and time again that his life was meant to follow a certain course. His pride, his self-worth, his peace of mind depended on that, she knew this, and still she had acted entirely out of a need to fulfil her own selfish, carnal desires. She remembered his father, his fiancé, the disgrace and shame he had spoken of._

Placing both hands flat against his chest, she tried to push him off her, but instead of moving, he simply pressed his mouth against hers again, wrapped his hands around her wrists and pushed them upwards over her head. She tried to free herself but merely succeeded in rocking into him repeatedly, causing him to utter a low moan she had not thought him capable of. The sound almost shattered her resolve, she blinked back tears of anger and frustration.

_Fuck, who ever said life was fair?_

Managing to free one hand she shoved hard against his throat. Pulling back he looked down at her, the ravenous glint in his eyes doing nothing to help her.

"I can't do this." She could hear the defeat in her own voice, low and emotionless, her intonation flat. His eyes seemed to finally clear of the flames that had been lapping there ever since she entered his office. He withdrew, standing back from his desk, observing her. She was still on her back, her body having gone boneless. With immense effort she sat up and looked at him. She felt completely empty as she studied his mildly confused, embarrassed expression. His face had at last returned to normal.

"I am sorry, Sir. I have no right to ruin your life along with mine." She thought she must be in shock, why else would her voice sound so dead.

She could hear Spock take a ragged breath.

"You will not leave the Academy." It was a command, not the kind a superior officer would issue, but one that she could not possibly disobey.

"No, Sir." She submitted.

"I can no longer provide you with private tutorials or solicit your assistance during lectures. You are not a student of any of my other courses, nor are you likely to be next year. I will grade your assignments so you may finish your course in Advanced Mathematics and Logic, but we will avoid all personal interaction from now on."

Aureya merely nodded.

"I am not capable of self-restraint in your presence, and as you are positively suicidal in mine, I believe it wise not to cross paths unless absolutely necessary. As I have mentioned before, and unfortunately demonstrated today, my emotional responses to you can manifest in rather violent ways."

Another nod.

She could hear him exhale loudly and watched as he was torn between stepping behind his desk and towards her again, to her surprise, he chose the latter. Placing a hand on her cheek he lifted her face towards his. The fingers of his other hand brushed a stray curl from her eyes with such delicacy that it felt like a feather had caressed her temple.

"As this may very well be our last meeting in private, I wish for you to allow me to be completely honest with you. This is a selfish request, inappropriate and unnecessary after what happened today, but it is my request non the less."

"Of course, Sir." Her voice was breathy, no longer flat, and she almost longed for that odd feeling of sheer empty desolation that had engulfed her a few minutes earlier. Suddenly everything was hurt and confusion, and then he bent towards her and kissed her again. His lips were soft and warm, his mouth remained closed and he pulled her into his arms without even a hint of hast or desperation; and then he truly broke her heart: Kissing first one and then the other of her closed lids, stroking her cheek and then trailing kissed down her neck until he reached her shoulder, he placed his forehead in he crook of her neck and told her very quietly:

"I love you."

***

**Shrem**

She had not eaten in three days. All he had managed to get down her was some water, herbal tea and one bowl of porridge. She seemed completely distraught but had not cried once. Jim had called an emergency meeting after Aureya contacted him to let him know that he had nothing to worry about, that there might be an inquiry but that there was no longer any evidence.

"What do you mean no longer?" Gaila had sounded a little shrill as Jim related Eya's message to them.

"We fucked up, left some traceable ID on the system, Eya and I were going to be hanged and quartered, or whatever equivalent Starfleet uses as punishment."

"What do you think she did to get rid of the evidence?" Gaila's voice had still held that panicky quality, which made Shrem doubt she was thinking the same thing he was, but then she added:

"You don't think she would have… I mean I would… no problem,… but you know how she is, … and that would sort of explain the state she is in."

Correction, she was thinking exactly the same thing he was.

"But who?"

And so was Jim.

They had called in Bones to scan her on the sly, but he had found nothing, no physical evidence of their suspicions, merely some light bruises.

Later, when the entire circle was sitting around Shrem and Eya's tiny kitchen table, trying to force-feed her chicken soup, she finally opened her mouth: "I know what you're doing you know. I can hear you too, when you whisper about me, and you're wrong, I didn't do anything to destroy the evidence, and sorry to disappoint you Jim, but I would most definitely not prostitute myself to keep you in Starfleet."

She had not so much as spoken a full sentence since she had slunk into their room three days earlier, looking as if she had just witnessed her own death.

"This is it, Eya, I'm not taking this any longer." Shrem slammed his hands down on the table and made everyone jump, he felt slightly foolish for being a drama queen again, but then again, he sort of meant it.

"I've said nothing that time you came back home crying like the world had ended, you told me I didn't need to worry and I believed you, but this is different. We are your friends, why the hell can you not trust us? At least tell me if it's the same thing, 'cause this time you are really scaring me."

"It's the same thing…. And Bones knows." Her voice was so small, it made her sound broken, nothing like the force of nature that she was. All eyes turned to Bones, disbelief and accusation on every face; Shrem could not blame the older man for looking a little frightened.

"Wait, what? I don't know!" Leonard's hands were in the air as he looked like someone ready to surrender, then a peculiar expression flitted across his face and suddenly he looked relieved.

"Wait, I really don't know… but I think I can guess what this is sort of about."

"You told Bones but not the rest of us?" Gaila sounded seriously hurt, he couldn't blame her, he felt the same, and imagined Pavel was right there with them. He certainly didn't look particularly impressed.

"She didn't tell me, I guessed… and it was related to a medical condition."

Gaila's head snapped up.

"Hang on a minute, this is about a guy?!!!" Damn that girl was quick off the mark!

"That time you passed out." Shrem was waving both hands about as if to fan himself with excitement but Jim grabbed one of them and put it on the table giving him _that_ look.

"Oh… gay again?" He had to ask.

Jim merely nodded.

"Sweetie, I don't mean to sound cruel, but if it's just a guy then what's the problem?" Gaila seemed genuinely confused.

"Not all guys are 'just guys', Gaila… no offence." Eya looked first at Jim then at Shrem. Both just smiled, Jim snorted and Shrem gave a little dismissive wave, which earned him another look.

"Seriously? I just moved my hand." He tried to protest but Kirk just shook his head.

"I mean you guys are not 'just guys' either, it's just… Ahhh!" Eya gave an exasperated cry, then let her head fall on the table with a thud.

"Oh dear Lord, I think I know!" Pavel looked shocked.

Lifting her head, Eya watched him apprehensively.

"Remember vhen I asked you vhy? Yes, no, yes, no… that one?" Aureya gave him a defeated nod, then nodded again more quickly.

"Holy shit!" Was all Pavel managed, Shrem seemed to remember a time when the young man never cursed.

"What the hell are you being all cryptic about?" Kirk was positively glaring at Chekov.

"It's up to Eya to tell us, not me." He still sounded a little out of it.

"Did anything happen?" He asked, turning his attention back to her "No, vait, I don't think I vant to know, this is just too weird… No, vait, I do vant to know, you're upset so something did happen, and…" He looked so confused, his mouth hanging open as he appeared to be battling internally, finally he shrugged and let his own head drop on the table.

"Newer mind."

"OK, this is ridiculous. Eya, did anyone hurt you or behave inappropriately towards you?" As usual Noyota was all business.

"No, and yes, but no more than I did." The fact that there was absolutely no fight in Eya was a little disturbing, but at least she was answering their questions.

"Right, so, inappropriate means faculty." Nyo concluded and earned herself some loud mumblings of "crap", "wow", and "who the fuck?".

"Did you sleep with him?" Uhura continued unperturbed, clearly she was a woman on a mission.

"No."

"So you're not worried about any disciplinary measured in connection with someone finding out about the relationship?"

"There is no relationship."

"Is that the problem?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry honey, but don't you think that you are getting a little carried away here, I mean we've all had crushes, unrequited loves, it's not the end of the world." Uhura did not sound callous as she said it, more like a concerned older sister.

"He told me that he loved me."

Bones, who had been leaning back in his chair overbalanced and crashed to the floor while Chekov cursed loudly in Russian and then just gaped at her and asked rather quietly: "He vhat?"

"Ok, I'm confused." Gaila looked from Bones to Chekov to Eya.

"No relationship, but he says he loves you, which is just something boys say when they want into your pants, but the two guys who know who it is think it's the biggest deal since the wheel? What the hell?"

"Oh, holy crap!" Uhura slammed both hands over her mouth and gave a muffled shriek. Bones, who had reappeared from under the table, just gave her a little wave as if to say 'welcome to the club, baby.'

"Ha!" all eyes snapped to Shrem.

"He waved!" he pointed out rather smugly.

"Not the same." Kirk just looked at him like he was a complete fool.

"Are we going to continue with this torture until everyone cops on or are you going to put us out of our misery?" Jim turned to the group at large.

"No, and no, I think this is enough, I don't want to talk about this any more." Eya quelled the impending protests by shovelling soup into her mouth like there was no tomorrow, then glanced at Shrem and asked:

"Do we have any bread?'

Not particularly happy about being part of the idiot squad who hadn't figured it out, but content enough with the fact that his friend was eating, he gave a small shrug and retrieved some rolls from the kitchen. Eya rewarded him with a tentative smile and he had to comfort himself with the thought that she would tell him when she was good and ready.

***

**Kirk**

The moment he had been dreading came sooner than expected. At the end of the next general assembly, just as he was about to turn to Bones and suggest a nice quiet evening in the Green Wolf, Jim heard his name being called from the front.

_Ah, shit, here we go_.

Right enough, the word "cheating" popped up, and off they went.

His request to learn the name of his accuser was promptly answered as pointy ears stood up and glared at him. Well, he didn't really glare, but Jim figured if Vulcans actually had emotions, that's what he would have done.

And then the green-blooded prick had the gall to drag his father into this, ranting about how he of all people should know the meaning of a futile battle.

_Bastard!_

At least pointy ears had the decency to look perturbed when Jim told him he didn't believe in such things as impossible ore no-win situations.

_Well, that was interesting._

Before the shit could well and truly hit the fan, however, a higher-ranking officer approached the podium and within minutes the whole place was milling with activity. Something about a natural disaster on Vulcan and the main fleet being otherwise occupied, Jim didn't care too much about the details; this meant action.

---

The hanger was absolutely buzzing. The cadets called to duty were lined up and issued their postings. He occasionally heard all too familiar names:

"P'Grell, Enterprise,

.

.

.

Gaila, Farragut,

.

.

Uhura, Enterprise,

.

.

Newman, Farragut"

His own, however, was never called, and on further inquiry he was informed that he was suspended until the little matter of the Kobayashi Maru was resolved.

_Damn that Vulcan idiot!_

He managed to inch over to a group of his friends, catching bits of conversation as he tried to get closer through a small crowd separating him from them.

"This isn't fair, you're the best engineer in second year, hell, probably the best in the entire student body, you should be on the Enterprise not me." Shrem's voice carried exceptionally well, yet another side effect of his more effeminate traits. Jim was well aware that P'Grell didn't really care what anyone thought, he allowed him to correct the hand movements and little squeaks simply to humour his friend; somehow Jim envied his complete lack of insecurities.

Eya's answer was not quite as clear, all he caught was "… you deserve…" and then Uhura protested rather loudly:

"Well I have a fairly good idea why you're on the freaking Farragut, and if I were you, I wouldn't let this stand."

Jim finally reached them, just in time to hear Eya respond.

"It's better this way, besides, I have Gaila."

Before he could even so much as open his mouth, Bones marched up to him and grabbed his arm, pausing only briefly to call over his shoulder, "I'll see you guys later."

"What the heck are you doing?" Jim protested as his friend dragged him away.

Gaila gave him a happy wave, calling out "Bye Jim, bye Bones, see you two on Vulcan." Aureya joined in the waving but remained silent.

"You'll thank me for this." Bones announced.

Somehow Jim never ended up being particularly thankful when his friend announced this.

He caught another glimpse of Gaila's bouncing red hair as she squealed and gloated:

"Ha ha, you're Crewman Newman."

Then Bones dragged him behind one of the supply shuttles and he heard nothing else of their conversation.


	18. Grief Like Wings

**Ok, this was agony to write. What happened was this: I kept worrying so much about the fact that this was the only chapter in my story to be properly, and almost entirely, set during the events of the movie. Now I finally have it on DVD, and all the double checking drove me mad… so, I decided, feck it. Lots of stuff does not match the movie, I am aware, but then again, nothing really did before either, so this is what came out.**

**It is more of an emotional commentary from Spock's POV, since I wanted to explore the differences between my AU and the movie. (I also did not want to retell long passages from the movie, so if things are a little fragmented… well, that's why.)**

**I know some people thought I ended the whole story with the last chapter, not so! I want you to bear this in mind, because this is really dark.**

**I was a little bothered by the fact that nobody in the movie seemed that upset by the fact that their entire fleet was just destroyed. (That's 300 people per ship if my stats are correct… and never mind the fact that some must have been friends… Gaila for example)**

**So, there is lots of grieving in this. (Last sad chapter, though, I promise)**

**Also, one of my favourite moments in the film… as in, most touching…. was the conversation between Sarek and Spock in the transporter room. Mine is very different, but I think the message is the same. (Awww, his daddy loves him!) I hope you guys don't mind the hand thing, I think it's sweet.**

**Also, I know this took forever, but at least I did not abandon it for weeks on end, I just worked on it on and off, so don't fear, I'm gonna finish this.**

**Thank you for all the encouragement, it'll be done soon.**

**(Also, I think I'll have to do **_**Firefly**_** next, I have a new character in this chapter, and I was really struggling not to have her say "ain't","go se", and "gorram" ;p)**

*******

"The cadet's logic is sound."

He struggled with this admission; illogically, emotionally loath to grant Kirk even this much.

Commenting on Uhura's brilliance proved much less painful. There were not quite as many jealousy issues involved.

Noting quite how absurd his thoughts were, particularly the one that led him to believe it an achievement to not have contradicted Kirk on his argument merely because he desperately wanted to, Spock took his seat as Captain Pike put them on alert and turned to _Lieutenant_ Uhura.

"No transmissions of any kind, Sir. Not even from our own fleet." She looked concerned.

"That's because they're under attack!"

Spock barely had a few seconds to contemplate the implications of Kirk's hypothesis, before the helmsman began his countdown prior to dropping out of warp, and Pike ordered for the auxiliary power to be diverted to the forward shields.

And then Spock no longer contemplated anything. The gates of hell opened wide as the remains of their fleet threatened to smash into their hull, obliterating them as they had been.

Despite his previous incompetence, their new helmsman skilfully avoided two expansive pieces of debris. Clearing the second of these, revealed that they were heading straight for the shattered disc of one of the other ships, scorched and riddled with impact points, it loomed before them like a piece of lifeless rock. Spock presumed that Mr Sulu was performing adequately, considering the fact that when he regained full control of his senses, they had avoided the disk by diving beneath it, he could, however, not be entirely certain how this had happened.

His attention had been diverted by the bold print on the large fragment, identifying the lifeless lump of metal as the USS Farragut.

His mind, while registering what was happening around him to some extent, refused to form coherent thoughts, and it was only with some effort that he managed to focus as the attention of all crewmembers on the bridge was pulled towards an impossibly large ship, perched amidst the remnants of their fleet like a giant spider in its web.

Before any of them had time to react, the ship launched two photon torpedoes, both of which found their mark.

And then, suddenly, inexplicably, the onslaught stopped.

"Hello."

---

Nothing. His mind was like a dark expanse of desert, no thought, no emotion, merely an infinite landscape of negatives. He was dimly aware of Pike's instructions, he processed them, filed them away for future reference, but did not comment, did not even protest when Pike named Kirk first officer. He was vaguely aware that he should be concerned for his friend, that he should be irritated at Kirk's promotion, but he was not.

He returned to Pike's chair on the bridge, he even paid partial attention to the progress of the away team. He watched the small blip monitoring Olson's vitals disappear off screen and briefly wondered at the fragility of life, but nothing more. None of the information truly computed.

All of this changed when Chekov informed him of the probe sent to Vulcan's core and its effect.

"How long does the planet have?"

"Minutes, Sir, minutes."

As if a sudden spark lit up some part of it, Spock's mind snapped into sharp focus. While most of his thoughts were still a mass of roiling black clouds leaving him somewhat dazed and numb, they began to slowly hone in on that one tangible problem, desperate to cling to something liable to take them away from the dark empty void reaching for them from within.

"Mr Chekov, you have the con."

Without so much as a pause to answer the young man's sputtered question of: "Where are you going, Sir." Spock entered the turbo lift and made his way to the transporter room. He reached it just in time to have Chekov overtake him at the entrance, then proceed to punch numeral sequences into the transport panel, frantically muttering to himself in Russian. Mere seconds later Kirk and Sulu landed on the platform with a heavy thud, arms wrapped around each other, sweating and panting profusely. A stray part of his mind reminded him that he now knew of two dead people who would have considered this situation humorous. He squashed the thought almost violently, not allowing his mind to fully process the pain and loss of control associated with the thought. Spock practically shoved the two younger men off the platform, ignoring Kirk's inquiries and comments, and merely barked at the somewhat stunned looking engineer next to Chekov:

"Energise."

---

_This must be what fear feels like to a base life-form: The pounding of your own heart, relentlessly pumping your blood at a absurdly accelerated rate, in your ears, the taste of sweat on your lips, the sensation of heat and dust on your skin, and not enough air, never enough air, no matter how hard you pant. All the adrenalin in your bloodstream, a blank mind and nothing but the sheer need of propelling yourself forward._

There was not a shred of analytical thought in Spock's mind, no logical deduction, no carefully constructed argument as to the best course of action; only:

"Get them out!"

Not even the sight of the ground crumbling, of whole rock formations swallowed by the sucking greedy maw crawling its way outward from the centre of the planet, shook Spock out of his trance. Standing there, overlooking the disappearing landscape as the soft tingling of the transporter beam reached out for him, Spock felt almost pleasantly numb.

Then his mother turned to him, her scarf swirling out in waves behind her, eyes widened in shock. As his body disintegrated to be reassembled moments later, as he was pulled almost imperceptibly upwards, his mother plunged, just beyond the reach of his fingertips, into the churning nothing.

Solid ground beneath his feet, bright lights, his arm extended towards thin air, Spock slowly blinked, then turned and glanced at his father. The older man's brow was furrowed, his lips tight, in what was one of the most evident displays of emotion Spock had ever witnessed on that face. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he swallowed hard and pushed the escalating storm in his mind further back.

Now there was nothing left.

Now there was only honour and duty.

Chekov approached him, mouth open as if attempting to say something but at a loss for words. Spock merely raised a hand and gave a small shake of his head, then passed the young man to make his way to the bridge.

Honour and duty, he reminded himself; he had his instructions.

His mind, or rather that part whose existence he was willing to acknowledge, was now sharp and clear, almost crystalline, like a shard of ice. He allowed for nothing to muddy this clarity.

Kirk objected to his orders, arrogant and insolent whelp that he was. At the suggestion of going after the Narada, a disgusting wrenching in his stomach caused Spock to pause. Images flooded his mind, images of death and destruction, of his own hands covered in blood, causing him such dark and perverse pleasure, that he had to take a deep breath and ban them from his thoughts.

"We have been issued clear instructions, Cadet, or do you suggest that we disregard Captain Pike's orders." His voice was hollow, shards of ice audible just beneath the surface, entirely befitting the frozen emptiness inside.

"He also told us to come and get him."

***

Not a single member of the crew objected to Spock's decision of marooning Kirk on Delta Vega. Whether they agreed with him or were simply intimidated, he could not ascertain, and if he was perfectly honest with himself, did not care to.

He did notice that most of them were strangely careful around him, as if they feared to take a wrong step, as if there was something not quite right about his behaviour. He concluded that they expected him to snap at any minute, and it occurred to him that he should be concerned by such a development in the crew's attitude towards their commanding officer. In the end, however, he once more could not bring himself to care.

---

The first person to attempt to speak to him was ensign Chekov, who cornered him outside the transporter room. The young man's eyes were red-rimmed, his voice uneven.

"Sir, I know you do not consider me as a friend, and I do not vish to impose, but if you vould like to talk about…" He waved his hand in a small, listless circle, then took a shuddering breath.

"I chave not lost as much as you today, Sir, but I chave lost plenty."

Chekov had been avoiding his eyes up until that moment, but was now fixing Spock with an intense gaze.

_How peculiar._

Spock marvelled at the small pang of sympathy constricting his chest. It appeared that while he was as yet unable to process his own emotions, Chekov's simpler, less guilt-ridden grief touched him.

"I am sorry for your loss, Ensign."

He managed to state this calmly, his voice even, his posture straight, only inclining his head slightly towards the younger man.

"You are mistaken, I do consider you a friend, and there are few men I hold in such high regard as I do you, however, you will have to forgive me for declining your offer, I am currently not in a position to discuss…" His voice refused to cooperate at this point, and he gave a bitter little laugh, shaking his head at the sheer absurdity of it all.

Chekov's eyes widened in shock and his mouth popped open. Spock considered it unwise to continue their conversation, as his demonstration of emotion clearly frightened the other man.

"You will excuse me, Ensign, I have some matters to attend to."

With this he left Chekov, still gaping and staring after him, and made his escape in the direction of the bridge.

---

The second person to attempt a similar conversation was Lieutenant Uhura. She proved more calculating than Chekov by following him into the turbo lift, effectively eliminating any possible escape route. She leaned slightly across him, careful not to invade his personal space, and paused the lift, then took a step back and carefully folded her hands behind her back.

"I am so sorry, Sir."

She looked at him with that unflinching earnestness he had come to expect from her. There was a peculiar blend of emotions mixed in with her usual expression, the exact components of which he found difficult to pinpoint. He detected pity, and grief, so very similar to Chekov's expressions, merely slightly more controlled, but there was something else in that blend, something infinitely worse, that he could not define but somehow feared would bring forth his own version of the same emotion.

"I cannot imagine how I would cope if I lost both… I mean… I am so sorry, Sir."

Her gaze was unflinching despite her hesitant speech. Spock felt a small burst of surprise:

"You were aware of…?" He had no need to complete the question; Uhura gave him a nod, her lips pressed tightly together.

"Only since very recently, Sir. Leonard has known for some time, and Pavel knows as well, Sir." There still was that look in her eyes, the one that did not sit comfortably with his own emotions.

"Oh." He responded uncharacteristically ineloquently to her revelation. Then realisation struck him.

"You hold me accountable." It was not a question, simply an observation.

"No, Sir, I…" The young woman looked uncomfortable, now worrying at her lip with her teeth and avoiding his eyes for the first time during their conversation.

"As do I, Lieutenant. Had I conducted myself in a more…"

"No, Sir, you intended to be professional, I understand… but Aureya is… was top of her class, as was Gaila, they belonged on the Enterprise and…" Uhura trailed off as she realised what sort of effect her words were having. Spock had not been prepared for the pain the mention of her name would cause. He closed his eyes and tried desperately to push it back down, tried to regain control, but all that filled his mind was his mother's voice, telling him that not all control was good. He placed his hand on the wall next to him for support, still not opening his eyes.

"I…., Sir, please forgive me,… I didn't,… I don't know what I'm saying." Uhura's voice was barely a whisper, broken by small sobs. Her obvious distress somewhat restored Spock's grasp on his own mind.

"You have said nothing wrong. I am aware of what I have done and I will have to live with it. Now, Lieutenant Uhura, I believe we both have duties to attend to; if you will excuse me."

As if on cue the lift door opened and Spock left the still sobbing lieutenant with brisk, determined strides, attempting to compensate for his earlier show of weakness.

---

He had barely made it as far as the mess, when his father approached him, the look on his face indicating that he had been waiting for a chance to speak to his son.

"Spock…"

Quite against his better upbringing, Spock decided to interrupt, not willing to risk another emotional outburst so soon after the last.

"Forgive me, father, I am currently not at liberty to speak with you, will a later time be acceptable?"

Sarek gave him a mildly startled look, then shook his head almost imperceptibly.

"Of course, you are busy, I understand."

Before Spock could allow another shard of guilt to add to his now rather substantial collection, he was contacted by the bridge:  
"Sirr, we have intruders in the engine room."

Chekov's voice held a small hint of something Spock could not quite place: surprise, possibly amusement. Regardless of his peculiar inflection, Spock welcomed the distraction and concluded that it was sufficient excuse to leave his father, yet not enough reason to truly worry, if Chekov's tone was any indication.

"If you will excuse me, father."

Sarek looked as if he were about to say something, but Spock once again did not afford him the courtesy of allowing him to speak. Leaving a slightly perturbed looking Sarek behind, he made his way, once again, to the bridge, just in time to observe Kirk aid a thoroughly wet and entirely unfamiliar man to his feet on the small security monitor on Chekov's console.

***

"It must not even compute for you!" Kirk was practically breathing his air, his nose a mere inch from his own. The roiling grey mass of despair and guilt at Spock's centre was in serious danger of escaping the increasingly flimsy confines his self-control could muster.

"You never loved her!"

Two distinctly different faces swam before his inner eye, both regarding him sadly, as if to say that, indeed, he had not loved them, had allowed them to die uncertain of the depth of his emotions for them, so very different in may ways, and yet, in so many ways, the same.

His inner barriers broke and he abandoned himself to the screaming, clawing mass of darkness consuming him from within.

It was glorious.

It was euphoric, indescribable release.

His rage took the place of all the emotions he had ever withheld, ever regretted, ever felt ashamed of. It spread its dark wings, breathing and pulsing like a living thing, allowing anger and frustration to drip from his fingers like filmy black liquid.

"Spock!"

Part of his mind snapped into focus. There in front of him, sprawled out atop the bridge's main console, was cadet Kirk, bloodied and panting, emitting small choking noises. It took Spock a moment to realise that this was due to his own hand, fiercely squeezing the younger man's throat. Puzzled, he removed it, then glanced around the bridge where the same expression met him on every face: shock and pity were etched on each and every one of them. Sheer disbelief and shame caused his mind to spin, shaking his head at the realisation of what he had done.

---

"… It appears I have been emotionally compromised. Doctor, please note the date and time in the ship's log."

As he stumbled from the bridge, his vision inexplicably blurred, he heard a loud slap as Lieutenant Uhura hit Kirk squarely across his already bleeding face. The young man seemed not to complain, at least not before the door slid closed behind Spock. His vision still impaired by unprecedented tears in his eyes, threatening to make their way down his cheeks, Spock trailed his hand along the wall of the corridor leading him away from the bridge. He was wholly unaware of were he was going, barely taking note of Kirk's voice over the com as he announced their change of course. It was not until he heard the soft clicking sound of his boots on the transporter platform, that he realised where his feet had taken him. Once again he closed his eyes and took a few steadying breaths. He heard the door behind him open and close, and felt his father's presence even before hearing his voice:

" Speak your mind, Spock."

Turning to face Sarek, he momentarily contemplated the wisdom of such a conversation. His emotional control, his drive and determination to master his baser instincts, his sheer need to be entirely Vulcan in his thoughts and actions, had originated in no small part in his desire to please his father. His own fragility at this moment meant that he would most likely not be able to remain completely detached. However, when he finally looked into Sarek's eyes and saw his own thoughts reflected there, recognised hurt and grief in the other man, and most importantly, the love they held, he stepped closer and reached out his hand. Without hesitation Sarek took it into his own.

"The anger I feel, the need for vengeance, for violence, overwhelms me, father,… the guilt…"

"You have nothing to blame yourself for, Spock, what happened on Vulcan was in no way within your control." Sarek's grip on his son's hand was gentle yet firm, intimacy rarely shared between the two. Spock looked at their clasped hands then shook his head.

"I feel anger for those who took mother's life, there is only guilt about my own need to deny her heritage, my failure to express the depth of my feelings…. I…" A light pressure around his fingers made Spock pause.

"She never perceived it as such. Your mother felt nothing but pride and love for you, and you do her an injustice if you presume that a lack of declarations made her doubt your devotion to her. She had a quiet confidence in both our affections that made her all the more remarkable."

"You once told me that it was logic which led you to…" Spock was at least partially aware of the fact that he was yet to complete a sentence in his father's presence.

"Like all of us, I am fallible. I have many shortcomings, emotional and otherwise. I am prone to pride. Regardless of what I might have said, do not believe for one moment that I did not dearly love… that I love… your mother. _She_ never doubted it."

Spock felt a peculiar prickling sensation in his eyes, and when he touched his cheek with his free hand, his fingers came away damp, he was crying once again. He gave a small mirthless laugh to which he expected his father would react unfavourably, but Sarek merely continued to look at his son earnestly, increasing the pressure around his hand fractionally.

"I changed the commissions of two highly qualified and immensely popular cadets from the Enterprise to the Farragut, simply to avoid a potentially difficult situation. It is this guilt that I spoke of earlier, father."

The words had rushed out, invited by Sarek's understanding expression, but now that they were out there, were real, Spock wished he could claw them back. His father seemed confused, the almost frantic delivery and apparent irrelevance of Spock's little speech to their previous conversation appeared to have startled him.

"I am not entirely certain I understand what it is that you are trying to tell me, Spock. What was your purpose in acting this way, what was the logical reason?"

"No logic, father, merely my own pride and inability to accept…" Once again he was unable to complete his sentence. Taking one more deep breath, he focused on his father's eyes once again.

"I was… I am in love with one of them. I decided that I would not be able to sufficiently control my emotions should I have to be in her presence on a regular basis. She has… had a rather… violent effect on me. I changed her commission, as well as that of a friend to keep her company. Their deaths rest squarely on my shoulders. Had I been able to suppress…" He shook his head again. "No, not that… Had I been willing to accept my own feelings, had I been honest with myself and with her, I would not have this wealth of regrets. … I … I can barely breathe for the weight of them, father."

To Spock's surprise, Sarek took a step closer to his son and placed his free hand on his shoulder.

"Do not take culpability from the ones who are responsible. You acted in an attempt to preserve your compromised professionalism. Some things simply defy us; we are all vulnerable, fallible. Do not lighten the Romulan's guilt by sharing the blame. It was they, not you, who destroyed that ship." Sarek inclined his head slightly, then added:

"I am truly sorry that your loss goes beyond what I was aware of. I was fortunate to have been allowed to share a life with the woman I loved… love, you were not, but consider the fact that love was never meant for either of us. It was intended to be inconsequential and negligible. We both know better. And consider how much more unfortunate it would have been to never have comprehended this at all. I believe there is a human saying for this."

Spock nodded his head:

"'Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.' Yes, father, I am familiar with it, however, I do not find that I agree. In this one instance I would choose ignorance if I were given the choice."

Sarek gave his son a knowing look:

"Give it time, you will come to understand the wisdom in those words."

***

A strange peace settled over Spock after the conversation with his father, his mind lulled into profound sadness and grief. The guilt and anger were still present, they had, however, taken up home in deeper recesses, they no longer threatened to devour his sanity at the first opportune moment. With this renewed docility to his thoughts, Spock returned to the bridge, fully intent to be of assistance in any way possible, recognising that his blind need to adhere to strict protocol had merely been an attempt to prevent any type of contemplation. And, after all, he reasoned, hunting down the Romulans was exactly what _she_ would have done.

Every face on the bridge turned to him as he entered, sympathy outweighing all other emotions. Chekov had just concluded a possible option for an ambush, while the newly acquired crewmember, a man who had as yet not been introduced to him, was now sporting a red uniform and was still drying his hair with a towel.

"I believe the Ensign's plan is promising, given the other ship's superior weaponry, a surprise attack does indeed seem like the most promising option." Both Uhura and McCoy gave him a tentative smile, and Chekov, approaching from behind and to his left briefly placed a hand on his shoulder as he passed him and made his way towards the main console.

It was Kirk's reaction, however, which surprised him, as the younger man turned to him with a genuine smile and was about to say something, as the com unit beeped. Lieutenant Uhura hurried to her station and announced:

"We're being hailed, Sir." She looked somewhat puzzled.

"Federation?" Kirk inquired.

"No, Sir. Scrambled sequence, no identification markers, Sir."

"Sulu, Chekov, check trail markings and give me a scan of any approaching vessel."

Both men complied immediately. Spock had to admit that Kirk was taking the role of commanding officer seriously.

"Nothing, Sir, untraceable markings on their ion trail, they must have one hell of a scrambler." Sulu informed him.

"They are following us on our starboard side, Sirr. 'Smallish wessel, but some fery impressive veaponry. No identification on the ship, no markings on the hull, Sir, 'seems to be composed of different parts. I chave no idea what they are." Chekov shook his head to emphasise his confusion.

"Sir, they are still hailing us." Uhura raised both eyebrows at Kirk and gave him a questioning look.

Kirk shrugged, then ordered:

"On screen."

"Captain Pike, I presume, huh…, somehow I imagined you would be older."

There was no response from Kirk or any of his crew as they stared in wonder at the tall woman on screen. She in turn gave them all the once over, as if to neatly catalogue them for future reference. Her appearance was striking to say the least. She was Orion, even though Spock could detect crew behind her of a variety of races, she appeared ageless, no longer young, but indefinable in any way beyond that, her stance indicated complete control of her situation, her hands on her hips in a gesture painfully familiar to Spock, her head tilted slightly backwards, eyes fixed on Kirk.

"Ahhm, no… I… ahm." Kirk stuttered for a moment, than caught himself, clearly remembering his newly acquired importance. He straightened his stance, thrust his shoulders back and announced:

"I am Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise, and who, may I ask, do I have the honour of speaking to."

The woman appeared momentarily distracted by something off screen and to the left of her, then she tossed her black curls over her shoulder and squinted at Kirk.

"I was informed I would be dealing with a Captain Christopher Pike, or possibly with a Commander Spock, may I assume that they are both dead?"

Spock closed the distance between Kirk and himself and giving the Captain a questioning look, to which he received a small nod, raised and eyebrow and stated:

"Indeed you may not, I am Commander Spock, Captain Pike is currently detained, Captain Kirk is the commanding officer of this vessel. May I enquire as to your purpose of contacting us, ….?" Here he traced a small circle in the air, indicating her with his entire hand.

"Oh, how rude of me, I am Captain Iria, of the Tarmaring." At this she gave them an odd little bow, using her arm to trace a curve from her forehead to her hip as she bent at the waist, exposing a rather ample amount of cleavage previously obscured by an open waistcoat.

"I am here to offer you my assistance." She gave them both a crooked grin, then placed her hands back on her hips and looked at them in turn as if to say "Well?"

Kirk merely stared at her in confusion. Spock on the other hand raised both eyebrows and shook his head.

"Forgive me, but do you truly consider us quite this gullible? Your ship has no tracers of any kind, your crew appears to consist of the flotsam and jetsam of this galaxy and you contact us out of nowhere, offering us your assistance without first enquiring what exactly you might be assisting us with? Do you believe for one second that you have in any way obscured the fact that you are pirates?" Spock tried to give her his most superior glare, but superiority did not come to him as easily as it once had. The fact that the woman looked at him with an infuriating and clearly amused smile, and that her green cheeks dimpled in an eerily familiar way, did not help his attempt at intimidation at all.

"Wow, who shoved a stick up your ass?" She gave him another hair toss and then laughed, throwing her head back and giving them a clear view of a long scar following the curve of her neck down to the centre of her chest.

"Firstly, pointy ears, I'm assuming you're following that freak of a ship that just imploded Vulcan… am I right on that?" Not giving him a chance to answer, she continued unperturbed: "And secondly, what do you mean "obscured the fact'? Honey, trust me, if I wanted you to think we were Talaxian merchants I could pull it off, but as matters stand, I have no need for pretending, …we're pirates alright." Spock momentarily gaped, entirely taken aback by both the woman's peculiar endearment as well as her blatant admission of guilt. Not entirely sure as to how to proceed, he was grateful that Kirk had finally recovered and now mirrored the woman's stance, having placed both hands on his hips and laughing in turn.

"I'm afraid that is not exactly the sort of argument that will convince me that you have no ulterior motives. …Not to mention the fact that I have not yet detected any actual motive either, why would you want to help us, _sweetheart_?" He winked at Spock at the final word, and he felt a little odd about the fact that the younger man had just 'retaliated' on his behalf.

"Look, cutie, this is all a little complicated and I would much rather discuss this in person. Would it be permissible for me and two members of my crew to beam aboard?" It was Kirks turn to throw back his head and laugh.

"Hell no, it would not. You are aware of the Orion Syndicate's renewed treaty with the Federation, and you still attempt to board us?"

"Whoa, hold on there, blondie. What is it with you people and assumptions? I don't represent the Orion Syndicate, and as much as that may work against me in this argument, I just had to put that straight. Furthermore, who said anything about boarding? I asked permission. All I want is a chance to explain exactly why we are interested in helping you."

"Sure you are. Let me guess, despite the, ahm… varied ethnicity of your crew, the two you are proposing to bring on board are Orion females like yourself, correct?" Kirk gave her a triumphant smile.

"Ahm, yes, well,… sort of." Captain Iria conceded.

"Well, in that case, I am sure you would not mind if our good doctor her prepared a little… prophylactic… to be administered on your arrival?" Kirk indicated McCoy, who gave the woman on screen a wicked grin.

She did not disappoint them and groaned in irritation, her face scrunching into a rather unattractive wince. Then, however, she dispatched all the superior grins by lifting her arms and them dropping them in defeat.

"Fine, all in the name of intergalactic peace and all that crap. But you just bare in mind that I am offering you my help, and you demand of me to be temporarily neutered… that is not exactly what I would call grateful. Well, never mind, if all of you Starfleet boys can't handle a couple of real women, so be it… Just tell me where you want us to drop out of warp so we can beam over."

Kirk gave Spock a questioning look, clearly confused as to what their best course of action would be. Spock, however, was equally as puzzled as the captain, and indicated as much with a small shrug. McCoy, who had made his way over to them when Kirk addressed him, pulled the other two closer.

"We can set it up so that we can inject them as soon as they are fully reconstituted, not even giving them a chance to release a larger dose of pheromones. And if we check for weapons before beaming, I don't see how they could do much damage." Kirk quirked an eyebrow.

Misinterpreting the gesture, McCoy gave his friend a glare and then added "Sir."

"Fuck, Bones, that was not what I meant, what I meant was: are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

"Very well." Kirk told Iria. "As for the dropping out of warp thing, that won't be necessary." At this he turned to the man who still had not been introduced to Spock, he in turn, also stepped forward.

"Ahm, aye, if you lot'll give me your stats, I'll have noo problem to get you over 'ere. Noo problem 't all." Spock briefly wondered if it was a prerequisite for engineers to either come in odd colours or with peculiar accents, but the sharp stab of pain resulting from that thought made him push it away.

"Very well, transmitting now. … And who exactly are you?" She scrutinised the man with that squinty glare she had used on Kirk earlier.

"Name's Montgomery Scott."

Spock felt marginally grateful to her for asking.

Iria merely answered this information with a short "Hm."

"Transmission complete. We are at your disposal." She informed Kirk.

Then called a clear "End transmission" behind her.

Just before she vanished off screen, she once again turned to her left, clearly communicating with someone just beyond the reach of the com camera. The second before her face vanished, she gave a puzzled look in that direction and asked:

"What beagle?"


	19. Spacepirates

**A/N: OK, this is a little shorter than the last one, but the dialogue heavy chapters always tend to be. Most of you guys already know what's going to happen in this,… can't get anything past you. (To be fair, I wasn't all that subtle.) The time-frame for this is the same as the last chapter, so if you're waiting for the beaming thing,… sorry, next one.**

**I took massive liberties with Orion culture, I know I have been reprimanded for this before, but my approach incorporates all options, plus… I like it… so there.**

**Regardless, … SPACEPIRATES, YAY!!!!!**

**A big THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed, I truly appreciate it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek or any of its characters.**

The vast white expanse just beyond the pod's screen seemed strangely appropriate to the emotional turmoil raging within the small capsule. Any semblance of control exhibited earlier, fuelled by adrenaline and the sheer need to survive, had crumbled into nothing. The synapses that had allowed for a trail modification and rudimentary shield creation, utilising the data still on their PDAs from the Kobayashi Maru, were now dormant. No brain-activity beyond sheer despair, no thoughts other than fragmented shards of what had happened over the previous hour played out internally in an endless loop.

"_We've lost decks six and seven, heavy losses on the bridge, the Captain is dead…" Commander Walton's voice boomed over the com._

"_The Dayton just went down, I want all cadets off the ship." His voice was still strong, but there was a small tremble just beneath the steel, that indicated that he knew exactly why he was giving this command._

"_You heard the man." Lieutenant Gnall was holding onto a metal railing with her good right arm, the left hanging by her side at an odd angle. The entire ship had tilted sharply to the left not 70 seconds ago, and any motion now had to be performed on slanting surfaces._

"_I want all pups out of my engine room ASAP, you have 10 seconds to get your asses to the escape pods." There was no indication of either pain or fear in her voice. Aureya had never realised a small person could look so tall._

There was a strangle sob from her left, followed by a staccato of hitched little breaths before they disintegrated into a volley of smaller, softer sobs.

_Her eyes were still firmly fixed on Gnall, she was inexplicably pulled backwards, away form their chief engineer. Barely aware of her feet's clumsy cooperation, she stumbled compliantly away from the engine room, still not looking anywhere but back. When her brain finally caught up with her feet, she turned to see Gaila, firmly clasping her hand and pulling her towards the pod pad. Relief and gratitude flooded her, and as her sense of self-preservation finally kicked in, she managed to move forward of her own accord; she did, however, never let go of Gaila's hand._

She leaned into Gaila's warmth, unspeakably grateful for her friend's presence, and, for the lack of anything else to do, she began weeping softly into the older woman's shoulder.

"_Five out of the six pads are gone, you are damn lucky… two per pod." The young engineering ensign informed them as he shoved them towards one of the last remaining escape pods._

_Aureya was startled by her own voice when she asked:_

"_What about you?... What about everyone else?"_

"_Cadets only." The young man's mouth was set in a thin line of determination, but just before he closed the screen he gave them both a tiny encouraging quirk of his lips._

_Then there was nothing but the complete darkness of the expulsion chute, Gaila's warm body pressed firmly into her left side, her heavy breath on her neck, and then wide open space and the rage of battle all around._

Somehow they had managed to connect their PDAs to the pod's navigation system, had applied the complex shield and basic cloaking configurations they had slaved over for months in the run up to the Kobayashi Maru, had managed to escape as the pods were picked off one by one, erased from existence like nothing more than insects on a flyer's screen.

Aureya had glanced back then, she now still wished he hadn't, in time to see the Farragut break in two, split by a photon torpedo to its disk.

Gaila had kept her eyes forward, and with the increased manoeuvrability of their pod, had begun to steer them in the direction of a tiny, ice covered M class planet.

On their way towards this frozen piece of rock, amidst the grieving for all the people they had just lost on the Farragut – for Lieutenant Gnall, Commander Walton, for the young man neither of them had even known – the shattering realisation of what else they had lost hit them almost simultaneously.

"Oh Lord,… the Enterprise." Gaila had whispered.

Aureya had not been able to speak, had almost not been able to breathe.

And so they had sat, cradled into each other's arms and had watched Vulcan crumble and fold in on itself in the distance, their shock and horror so great, that they had momentarily both stopped crying.

Gaila was now rocking them backwards and forwards, gently stroking Aureya's hair, as she buried her face in Gaila's neck.

"They're all gone." Aureya choked out. Internally she added: _He's gone._

"We need to get out of here, sweetie, we don't have enough fuel left to keep this thing warm for more than another few hours." Her voice was gravelly and tinny; all the crying had taken its toll. Aureya merely nodded mutely, not able to process much beyond her inner monologue of: _breathe in… good,… now, breathe out… good._

Gaila had begun to fiddle with the cables of their com unit and a small pang of fear made Aureya's attention snap to.

"We can't send out a distress call on a Starfleet frequency. Who… or whatever did this must be monitoring them." She was surprised at the hollow strength in her voice.

"I know, honey. I'm not going to hail Starfleet." Gaila gave her a very peculiar look, part apologetic, part proud. Aureya merely looked at her with puzzlement.

"I've never really told you about my family, have I?" Gaila gave her that look again.

"No."

"Well, mmm, you know about the Orion Syndicate, right."

"Do I ever, remember that delegation thing?"

"Yea. Sure do. Well, not all Orions are part of the Syndicate, it's all a little complex, but, well, my family is part of a certain… ahm, business venture, and as far as I'm aware, there is an … ahm… associate of theirs, who should not be too far from here."

***

Gaila's delighted squeal echoed off the small transporter room as she was spun, for the third time, by one of the rather frightening looking Orion men who had greeted them there on arrival.

Slightly out of breath, she thumped the huge man on the back and ordered:

"Put me down, put me down, you giant oaf." Then turning a huge grin at Aureya she announced:

"Sweetie, meet my cousin Arn, and those two are Hanis and Seran." As she introduced the other two men, she grabbed each in turn and kissed them fiercely on the mouth. Aureya detected some definite tongue action and could not help but avert her eyes.

"And this is my friend Aureya." Gaila finally announced as she detached herself from the second man. Arn immediately took a step forward, smiled brightly and told her:

"Welcome to the Tarmaring, Aureya."

"Thank you, we were…" she had to break off as Arn made a clear dive for her mouth and she only just managed to step backwards and avoid having his tongue shoved down her throat.

Gaila whacked her cousin on his bald head and wagged a finger:

"Did I say you could do that? Eya was raised human, she doesn't understand our customs, don't scare her."

The large man's chastised expression was almost comical; he lowered his head and looked up at Aureya through his lashes like a bold puppy:

"Ahm,…sorry?"

Now Aureya couldn't help but laugh. She put her hands on her hips and tilted her head upwards to get a better look at the young man.

"Nothing to apologise for, my fault. I shouldn't be so ignorant of these things. I meant no offence, by the way. … right, ahm… is no tongue ok? … sort of a cultural compromise?'

Arn grinned again, shrugged his shoulders, and gave her a chaste little kiss on the lips; Hanis and Seran followed suite.

She had not expected the magnitude of the pain that ripped through her chest at the gentle reminder of her loss, and felt embarrassed as she noticed that tears had once again begun to slip down her cheeks.

Seran, who'd kissed Aureya last, looked somewhat panicked, and shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other, then whispered at Gaila:

"Awww, crap, what did I do?"

The older woman's expression had turned solemn as well, and she gave the man a sad little shake of her head:

"Nothing baby, nothing."

"Don't mind him, my sweet." Arn put one of his large hands on Aureya's shoulder "We saw what happened to your fleet,… was nothing we could do, … and then that thing they did to Vulcan, ….'never seen anything like it." He looked thoughtful for a moment, then gave her a small smile.

"Oh well, at least one ship got away… and you two."

"What ship?" Aureya and Gaila asked in complete unison.

***

"And this is the mess, it's kind of a free for all, you'll have to be quick on Talaxian stew day, it turns into a fistfight by the time they get out the last batch." Arn gave a delighted laugh that made it clear that Talaxian stew day was his favourite, whether that had anything to do with the food or merely the fistfight, Aureya couldn't quite ascertain.

"Now, I reckon all that's left is the bridge. Captain hasn't even seen you yet, Gaila, she told me to bring you right to her, … mmm, don't tell her I gave you the tour, so."

Turning to Aureya he added:

"Our Captain is a tad scary, but it's only skin deep, bear that in mind."

"I don't think auntie Iria is scary." Gaila gave him a wicked grin.

"Yea, that's cause you're her favourite niece, ' any of us try to call her auntie we'd have some extra orifices in no time."

"The Captain of this ship is your aunt?' Aureya was starting to feel a little dizzy attempting to fit all the new information, especially everything that wasn't being said, into a coherent pattern.

"Not by blood, my mother took her under her wing when she got away from the Syndicate, it's sort of complicated, you could ask her about it at some point… ahm, just make sure she's drunk first." Gaila was about to reach for the access pad on the door to the bridge, when Aureya put a hand on her arm.

"Just so I know, Gaila, are you some freaking pirate princess or something, because that's sort of the vibe I'm getting here?" Gaila threw her head back and laughed, then smiled brightly at Aureya:

"Eya, honey, 'princess' is such a weird word." With that she pressed the pad and the door to the bridge slid open.

---

Aureya wasn't sure what she had expected the crew of a pirate ship to look like, but this sort of wasn't it. The first person to notice them as they made their way towards the helm, was a rather delicate looking Andorian woman, and as she greeted Gaila rather enthusiastically, Aureya couldn't help but grin at her like a fool, simply because she had to think of Shrem and how he was most likely _not_ dead.

The cultural mix of Orion to other was roughly three to one, Terrans, Andorians, and Tellarites were liberally sprinkled into the sea of green. As they finally made it to the helm, the tall woman that greeted them was yet another surprise.

"Gaila! Oh sweetheart, I'm so glad you're alright." The accompanying hug included some rather hefty thumps on the younger woman's back.

"And who is this?' There was an odd expression in her eyes as she studied Aureya intently, it almost looked like pain.

"This is my friend Aureya, Aureya this is Captain Iria." Gaila smiled magnanimously.

Aureya attempted to give the older woman a small smile, but the look of startled surprise on her face confused her a little.

"_Aureya_. That's a pretty name."

"'Pretty name for a pretty girl." Arn threw in with a grin.

Ignoring the comment, Iria returned to her in-depth study of Aureya's features.

"You are half Terran?"

"Yes, ma'am." Aureya's confusion grew: _What is this? The Spanish Inquisition?_

"Humans have second names, 'you have one of those?"

Slightly irritated now at the abrupt tone and flat expression on the other woman's face, Aureya quirked an eyebrow and placed her hands on her hips, she did, however, not see the point in withholding information:

"I sure do, it's Newman, but you could have tried and be a little more polite about asking." She directed her best glare at the woman, the response she got, however, took her by complete surprise. Captain Iria first sat down rather heavily in her chair, eyes fixed on Aureya, mouth wide open, she proceeded to shaking her head for a good minute, before she got back up and startled Aureya completely by grabbing her and hugging her to her much taller form. Aureya was about to push the older woman away in confusion, when she noticed that she was shaking uncontrollably, stroking Aureya's hair and making small choking noised somewhere near her right ear; the Captain was crying. Eyes wide, Aureya gave Gaila a rather helpless look, her friend, however, wore much the same expression and simply shrugged her shoulders.

Aureya's hands were balled at her sides, sheer surprise having frozen her in place and caused her to tense all over, now that she was recovering from the worst of the shock, she felt a little awkward just standing there. After a few indecisive attempts, she placed her arms around the older woman, allowing her hands to come to rest on her shoulders.

The contact appeared to snap Captain Iria out of her little episode, and, sniffling lightly, she dragged the back of her hand across her nose and mouth in a rather unladylike fashion and mumbled:

"Sorry about that. I suppose I owe you an explanation."

Aureya only managed a garbled snort and a one-shouldered shrug.

***

The mess had gone decidedly blurry after her third cup of what was only described to her as "brew", a slightly opaque brown liquid, the ingredients of which no-one was willing to disclose. Well, there was definitely alcohol in there.

"Where was I?' Iria looked mostly sober, but a certain glazed quality to her eyes told Aureya that appearances were somewhat deceiving.

"You weren't." Gaila stated bluntly. "You haven't started yet."

"Oh, yes."

"I was sold for the first time by the Syndicate when I was 17. You know how all this works, right?'

Aureya did her best impression of a goldfish, opening and closing her mouth a few times but unable to speak, and Gaila had to come to her rescue:

"Orions were traditionally fiercely matriarchal, what with all the pheromones and stuff. Then, long after we abandoned Orion and had become a nomadic people, scientists developed a drug that made our men immune to our women's pheromones. Now, that was fine as long as it meant a more equal society, unfortunately that's not what happened. When the Syndicate came to power… I won't bore you with the historical details here… they basically went on a misogynistic crusade. Within a few decades of gaining power, they flipped our social structure on its head. Women became commodities to be bought and sold, goods to be traded. Well, you know all about that, if Commander Pointy-ears hadn't put in his little performance, I'm sure you'd know even more."

Aureya blushed at the mention of Spock, but hoped the others would attribute this to the embarrassment and revulsion she felt towards the fate she had escaped. To keep the conversation going she inquired:

"So, when you said that not all Orions are part of the Syndicate..?"

"I meant us. Some Orions live outside the structured existence the Syndicate offers. We don't enslave our men, they receive the drug to make them immune, but we do usually have female heads of households. Most of us make our living any way we can…" Gaila waved her hand over her head, indicating the crew currently in the mess.

"Piracy." Aureya stated.

"Sometimes." Iria confirmed.

"Ok, so you were sold at 17." Aureya tilted her head slightly to the side and rested it on her hand, elbow on table, to settle in for what would undoubtedly be a long story.

"You've heard of what happened with the USS Calvin? And about the Orion ship involved?"

Aureya nodded, every single person in Starfleet knew about this.

"I was sold as part of the negotiations. It's a little complicated, since I was technically sold and then given as a present with the instructions not to reveal the fact that I was a slave."

Aureya merely gave Iria a puzzled look.

"I was purchased by one of the main negotiators on the Orion side, who in turn gifted me to one of the negotiators representing Earth. Humans do not condone slavery and I had to play the part of an intrigued young woman. I lied about my age, I gave myself a fake name, and I pretended to be in love. I was merely one of many girls bought for the same purpose, but oddly enough, I was the only one who succeeded in my deception."

Aureya's eyes had gone wide, realisation hit her like a slap in the face.

"Newton's… something or other… you're…" she whispered.

Iria merely smiled shyly and nodded.

"I had never met anyone like your father,… so quiet, so meek, Orion culture would consider him weak, but he wasn't, he just hid his strengths so very well. I wasn't in love, but…. And then you came along…" Here Iria gave a small startled laugh. "Well, and then I _was_ in love. You were perfect, in every possible way, and I… I cannot possibly describe…" She shook her head, then smiled again, this time rather sadly. Arn and Gaila had gone suspiciously quiet, and when Aureya tore her eyes away from Iria to look at them, she caught them both staring at her.

"Why did you leave?" Her voice was tiny, that of a little girl, her vulnerability laid bare for all to see. Here was her very own white whale. No amount of pushing and shoving had ever been enough to fully hide how much she had felt abandoned.

"I didn't, not really. The man who bought me decided that since your father was entirely unaware of his noble position as slave owner, he was not really entitled to me. He found a new, more advantageous business prospect that would benefit from a little female flesh on a platter. He ordered me back, threatened to reveal my deception to your father if I didn't comply. I was so young… I didn't know what else to do." She looked at her hands clasped around her cup of brew, studying them intently.

"My new owner was a monster, sadistic and brutal in all his dealings with me. I fought tooth and nail, I grew hard, and bitter, and dark inside. And when I had a chance to escape, I didn't care much what I had to do to take it." The tone in her voice made it clear that she would not elaborate on this.

"I was barely alive when Sorei found me, I was selling myself in a trading post on a small planet not so very different form the one we found you on."

Aureya gave Gaila a questioning look, certain she had a good idea who Sorei was, but still grateful when Gaila confirmed it by mouthing: "my mother."

"I… I didn't try to find you." Iria said this with a heavy finality, no guilt and no apology in her voice.

"I was nothing like the young girl who had given birth to you, and I didn't want to…" Her voice broke at this, the odd flatness of her intonation giving way to a high-pitched sob.

"I understand, I don't agree, but I understand." Aureya placed a soothing hand on her mother's own, feeling oddly numb, overwhelmed by the revelations.

Still touching hands, both women took a long pull from their cups, when a tall shape cast a shadow across their table.

"Captain, we have detected the Enterprise, they are on a pursuit course of the Romulan ship. Furthermore, there have been some unusual readings pertaining to their transporter. It appears that someone has beamed aboard mid-warp."

Aureya stared open-mouthed at the middle-aged man standing behind her mother. She took in his salt and pepper hair, his immaculate civilian clothes, and most of all his upward-slanting eyebrows and pointed ears. She couldn't help it, she had to laugh.

"I amuse you?" The man inquired.

"I'm sorry, it's just… Vulcan pirate, really?"

"Selak is my first officer." Iria informed her with a smile.

"Please tell me he isn't anything else, 'cause that would be weird right now… in ways I can't really explain… but…." Aureya's laughter had taken on a rather hysterical note; it had been a long day.

"Vulcans are not exactly… ahm, amenable to sex." Iria informed her with a worried frown.

Aureya nodded sagely, still laughing, but then promptly proceeded to crying rather noisily.

"Oh bloody hell,… you don't say."

"Are you OK?" Gaila had left her seat and was now standing behind Aureya, gently rubbing her shoulders, exchanging some rather puzzled glances with the captain.

"No." Was all that came back amidst some strangled little noises that most resembled hick-ups.

Aureya took in a deep stuttering breath, and managed to get herself under control.

"I'm sorry, I'm not actually crazy, even if the evidence might suggest otherwise. It's just…" she gave a snort and waved her arms in the air in a rather arbitrary flapping sort of way, then finished rather lamely "…everything."

Everyone seated at the table nodded their understanding, and Selak raised an eyebrow in one of those irritating expressions that loosely translated into: _Boy, am I glad I don't do all that emotional bullshit._

Iria startled them all by slamming both her hands on the table and turning to her first officer:

"How long until we catch up to them?"

"Another six hours, Captain."

"Right, I reckon you two could use some sleep. Arn will show you to your quarters, when you're rested you can always help out, I'm afraid family isn't guests, you'll have to pitch in. 'What did you do in Starfleet anyways?" Iria gave Aureya an apprising look.

"I'm an engineer." She told her mother, hips on hand and a cocky little smirk on her lips, the picture of confidence but for the red-rimmed eyes and droplets of moisture clinging to her lashes.

"That's my girl." Iria mirrored her stance and gave an approving nod.

"I'll be commandeering you two as crew until someone else wants you back, so. Now, get some rest, then see me before you report to the engine room, we've got to do something about those uniforms… can't have you two running around like that."

As an afterthought, she leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Aureya's mouth.

"Sleep tight, little rabbit… um, that's what I used to call you."

Aureya merely grinned from ear to ear.

***

"I'm not wearing that!"

"Why not? It looks good." Gaila looked genuinely puzzled.

"If I bend over my tits'll fall out,… not that I actually could bend over, considering how tight these pants are." She attempted to pull up the neckline of the tight grey shirt for the n-th time, and readjusted the tightly laced brown waistcoat, but found that it didn't improve things much.

"So, while I'm monitoring engine core temperatures and fixing the odd leak here and there, am I expected to dance around a pole?" Aureya smirked at Gaila, then gave her a little hip wriggle complete with sultry pout. The older woman managed a spluttery little "woooo!" , before succumbing to giggles.

"I'd definitely recommend it, no better place than here to put an end to your sorry virginal state." Gaila finally answered.

Aureya just shook her head and gave her a doubtful smile.

"Or you could always just tell me who your little nervous breakdown a week ago was about, and I could lend you the free use of my expertise." Gaila wriggled her eyebrows and winked.

"Trust me, not even you have 'expertise' there."

"Huh?"

Aureya was saved from concocting an evasive story that wouldn't quite qualify as a lie, by Iria's voice over the com.

"Ladies, we're closing in on the Enterprise, would you care to join me on the bridge?"

"There in one." Gaila answered, then her eyes fell on Aureya again and she did a little double take.

"Ooooh, Eya honey, that is beautiful, I didn't know you even wore jewellery." She let her fingers play across the large pendant, her expression a little slack in admiration.

"That's not Terran, is it?"

"No." A small weight in Aureya's stomach simply vanished as her mind told her: _Oh, what the heck._

"It's Vulcan."

She left Gaila standing there, mouth open, eyes wide, as first comprehension, and then disbelief flitted across her face. Just before the door to their quarters slid shut behind her, she could hear Gaila's voice:

"Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me."


	20. ReUnion

**A/N: Hi all! I am so sorry I didn't get this done sooner, but the whole Narada scene bothered me something fierce. I just couldn't figure out what to do with it… so I left it out. If I ever come up with a good idea of how to include another ship and keep it true to the movie, I'll edit it in. As it is, I'm sure that that wasn't the scene people have been waiting for anyways… so, forgive me? **

**Oh boy, I'm really not sure if I pulled this chapter off, I've never written this sort of thing before… but then again, this is my first story, so everything in here was a first.**

**Well, this is the final proper chapter, there will be an epilogue, but that's it. I do have a sequel of sorts hopping around in my head, but Aureya and Spock are not the focus in that. I am writing a Firefly thingy at the moment, but that crowd is dead quiet, or maybe my story just sucks… ah well.**

**Anyways, if you've never seen Firefly, I envy you; what I wouldn't give to be able to watch it for the first time again. (I hope I'm not in breach of some unspoken rule by recommending one fandom to another.)**

**A massive big thank you to everyone who reviewed, you've kept me going.**

**This chapter is dedicated to miller330, dean's leather jacket and vulcanvamp, who've been with me from day one, even though I deleted some of their reviews by accident. I love you guys, thank you so much.**

_**Spock**_

The turbo lift felt decidedly crowded. Spock was partially wedged between his father and Ensign Chekov. Kirk, Mr Scott, Cadet P'Grell, Doctor McCoy and two of his medical officers were just to their right. Spock had not seen P'Grell since just before they had boarded the Enterprise, and the young man's noticeable physical change perturbed him somewhat. His eyes were rimmed with red, and while he had noticed this sign of grief on a number of others, the stark contrast this formed with his blue skin, was striking. His nose was likewise red, as if he had been crying rather violently. None of these signs, however, were quite as marked as the fact that the imposingly large man stood stooped, bent by an invisible force, and looked, for the first time in their brief acquaintance, fragile. It did not escape Spock's notice, that Kirk had placed his hand on the taller man's shoulder, and had left it there, squeezing gently at semi-regular intervals. He had not noticed it previously, clearly too enveloped in his own loss, but the Captain too, looked decidedly impaired. His mouth was set in a thin line, and a certain weariness to his eyes indicated pain and fury masterfully disguised. In order to distract himself from the fact that he had just thought of Kirk as 'the Captain' without so much as an inward shiver, and the peculiar sense of admiration suddenly growing without discernable reason, Spock decided to address the man in question.

"Sir, would you care to explain why you have deemed it wise to include my father in this greeting party?" He glanced briefly at Sarek, who merely raised one eyebrow, but remained otherwise expressionless.

"Well, Mr Spock, as much as I would hope that Bones and his posse here will jump the Orions as soon as they materialise, inject them, and prevent any possibility of them using their… ahm, whiles on us,… should anything go wrong, I'd rather have two immune… hold that thought, two and a half, Andorians are not as affected as humans,… no, wait, Chekov, don't you just throw up?" Clearly incapable of adhering to his original train of thought, he turned to the young man beside Spock.

"I am seventeen now, _Sirr_." Chekov sounded indignant.

"Well, never mind. As I was saying, I'd rather have two and a half unaffected men in the transporter room." Kirk picked up the abandoned thread.

"Wise choice, Sir. Two Vulcans against five Terrans and a semi-delirious Andorian, I admire your forethought." He did not hide the sharp sting of sarcasm in his voice.

To his credit, Kirk laughed. He gave Spock an appreciative grin and then noted:  
"Well, at least we know you can kick the living daylight out of me. Also, Nurse Martin over there would just pass out."

Spock could not curtail a small quirk of the lips.

As the lift doors opened and they all filed into the transporter room, Mr Scott and Cadet P'Grell taking up station on the console, the medics positioning themselves right next to the platform, and Kirk, Chekov, Spock, and Sarek in a pseudo-formal group just beyond them, Spock could not help a strange feeling of foreboding. Deriding himself for allowing his grief addled brain to conjure up such superstitious figments; he stood up a little straighter and fixed his gaze firmly on the as yet empty platform.

"Energise, Scotty." Kirk ordered.

As the three swirling clouds of reconstituting matter settled into humanoid forms, Spock's mind split into several fragments. One of these observed the complete silence that had settle after a number of shuddering intakes of breath had been briefly audible. Mr Scott and the two medics brought along to assist McCoy were frozen in place not so much by who had just materialised on the transporter platform, but more so by the reactions of those immediately around them. In his peripheral vision he noticed Nurse Martin and the other medic share confused looks and trade a non-verbal exchange that amounted to "I'm fine, are you?", which was answered in the affirmative.

Another fragment of his mind studied the three women on the platform. Captain Iria was as tall as she had appeared on screen, she was dressed in pale brown trousers, a low cut blouse and an open waste coat, and while the outfit was not hiding any of her shape, it was far less revealing than what would be expected of an Orion female intent on seduction. To her left was a considerably younger and very familiar woman. Cadet Gaila was dressed in black trousers, a red suede corset and a small cardigan draped across her shoulders, her hair was piled on top of her head and she was grinning from ear to ear. On Captain Iria's right was another young woman. Legs clad in dark brown trousers, her upper body covered by a grey, tight fitting shirt and a brown leather corset, laced at the sides, which pushed her breasts up far enough to gently cushion the pendent around her neck. Her hair was pulled back from her forehead in two small braids on either side, leaving the rest of it to fall in wild curls around her face.

This was where the third and by far most substantial part of Spock's mind chose to linger: Aureya's face.

Her cheeks were flushed slightly, there were small tears in her eyes, but her lips were parted in a gentle smile and her eyes were intently focused on him. Blood was pounding in Spock's ears and he could no longer control his breathing as his pulse and respiration began to chase each other around his body. His mouth had fallen open and he could detect the faintest taste of panic on his tongue.

He was momentarily shaken from his stupor as a howl-like noise came from somewhere behind him and Cadet P'Grell threw himself forward, passing him and grabbing both young women by one arm, dragging them off the platform, and crushing them to his wide chest. The large man began to sob uncontrollably as two pairs of slender green arms encircled him. Chekov was the next to move, leaving Kirk's side and gently easing Aureya out of P'Grell's grasp, to hug her fiercely to his own, much smaller chest. She was crying now. Kirk took Gaila from P'Grell a moment later, only to relent as he pushed her back into the larger man so they were both hugging her. At this point Bones gave a little grunt and draped his arms around Aureya and Chekov.

"Fascinating," Spock heard his father's voice from just behind him "I have observed the effect of Orion pheromones before, I had no idea they could be this immediate and powerful."

Sarek appeared not to have recognised Aureya.

The two young women were handed around for a further few minutes, until a little lull in the crying and embracing caused an awkward silence. Bones and Chekov eyed Spock expectantly, but he was still standing rooted to the spot, mouth open, breathing uneven.

But then Aureya's eyes met his once more, and all thought left his brain, instinct took over. He was beside her in two long strides, his hands on her waste and he lifted her so her face was level with his. Tears were running down her cheeks now, still beautifully flushed, and her lips were trembling. The slightly numb feeling in the back of his throat and the stinging sensation in his eyes told Spock that he, too, was crying. He took a moment just to look at her, her face so near his own, before he pulled her close and allowed his mouth to meet hers. She gave a tiny hick-up of a sob, but her lips opened beneath his, and the taste of her, mingle with the slight saltiness of her tears, wiped everything from his mind but her, her, her.

When his brain deemed it fit to resume operations, he noticed that the room had gone peculiarly quiet; detaching himself from Aureya rather reluctantly, he observed the even spread of smiles and stunned expressions. A soft "Oh" from his father somewhat cleared his mind further, and he set Aureya gently back down on her feet; she seemed a little reluctant to part from him, too.

Captain Iria promptly marched up to McCoy and stretched out her bared arm:

"Here, I've been holding on as long as I can, you gonna stick me, or what?"

***

_**Aureya**_

There were no comments as they made their way to the small conference room adjoining the bridge. Kirk, Spock and Iria led the way, while the rest of them followed in an odd little huddle. Shrem was holding Gaila's hand on his left and Aureya's on his right, Pavel was practically glued to her other side. McCoy was conversing in low mumbles with Mr Scott, who had voiced some interest in the shape of a rather colourful expletive involving sheep and a simple: "What the...?"

Sarek hung back a little, giving the impression that he had chosen a position from which to survey the situation at his leisure.

When they entered the room, Noyota was waiting for them, having been informed by Kirk earlier. She rushed forward and hugged first Aureya, then Gaila rather fiercely. She made a little choking noise, but for once her eloquence seemed to fail her. Aureya simply smiled and nodded, then kissed the older women gently on the cheek.

"I assume you all had a plan before you started chasing after the Romulans? Well, let's hear it." Apparently Iria was not one to waste time with idle chitchat.

"Forgive me, Captain Iria, but may I inquire as to why you assume that we will share any information pertaining to matters of security with you? As grateful as we are that you saved two Starfleet cadets, there is no proof that your intentions are honourable. Incidentally, the rescue you have undertaken would form the perfect ruse to infiltrate…."

Iria did not let Spock finish.

"Whoa, there, sweetheart. Now, you may be sort of cute to look at, if you're into that kind of thing, but did you have to open your mouth?

Oh, I'm aware that you were grateful,… you weren't exactly subtle about that, but that's not why I'm assuming you'll trust me, I come highly recommended."

There was an audible intake of breath as Iria addressed the giant elephant in the room, and Spock's mouth visibly twitched in response.

Kirk put his hand on Spock's shoulder in order to stop him from mounting a verbal rebuttal, and smiled at Iria benevolently.

"Let's just not assume anything, shall we? Just let me know why you would so generously offer to help us, and what recommendations you were talking about."

Iria merely smiled back and then turned to Gaila and Aureya, wriggling her eyebrows and indicating Kirk with her head.

"Everyone," Gaila began, "may I introduce my adoptive aunt Iria." Then she turned to Aureya and nodded.

"… and my mother." She dutifully finished for her friend.

Noting the shocked expressions around her, Iria gave them a mock curtsy and grinned widely.

"Well, what about those Romulans, then?"

Recovering first, Jim cleared his throat:

"OK, I want it to be perfectly clear that a few people will get a giant grilling when this is over, right now we obviously don't have the time, but … well… holy crap!" Kirk waved his hand around the room indicating his present company, then straightened his uniform's shirt and nodded at Pavel:

"Ensign Chekov, why don't you tell us what we have so far?"

"Certainly, Sirr."

***

Spock accompanied her to the transporter platform. As the Enterprise was fully staffed, Gaila and Aureya's talents were going to be put to better use on the Tamaring. There was an awkward moment, were neither one of them was entirely sure what to say, until Aureya finally managed a threat:

"If you get yourself killed, I swear on Commander Lennox's grave, I will…" She didn't get to finish, which was just as well, since she had no idea what she was going to say. Spock simply pulled her towards him and kissed her again. When he released her, he merely said:

"Understood."

She grinned like an idiot, then heard his command of "Energise" and found herself in the Tamaring's transporter room a moment later.

"Hmm, judging by the look on your face, that went well." Arn greeted her.

***

She would only remember the following moments in a blurred mess of emotions. No distinct memory stood out amidst the mix of determined focus and anxiety for her loved ones.

Aureya would be eternally grateful for having spent the entire duration of the fight in the engine room of the Tamaring, doing her bit to hold the outdated mongrel of a ship together and able to keep up with Starfleet's finest. She would be eternally grateful, because it meant she was nowhere near the bridge's observation screen as events unfolded. Had she imagine for one moment that Spock would be mad enough to do what he had done, she would have tried to knock him out cold on that transporter platform. The way things stood, she had her head and hands full with overheating coils and a continuously misbehaving warp core. In hindsight, it was a miracle that the ship hadn't blown up around them. She couldn't deny a certain amount of pride in that, nepotism or not, Iria had left the engine room under Aureya's command. She thought this might have saved her sanity, since, being completely consumed by her duties, meant she did not have to witness Spock's attempt to recreate George Kirk's heroics.

She only learned of what had happened later.

Iria had returned Gaila and Aureya to the Enterprise, now severely impaired and metaphorically limping, and had taken her leave. Her profession making a triumphant visit to Earth an impossibility.

Jim had seemed sheepishly lost for words:

"I could… maybe…"

"Don't be ridiculous, Cutie, … nothing you could do. I'm not looking for a royal pardon or anything. We've all chosen to be what we are, so don't you imply for one second that we'd rather be something else." She had turned to Gaila and Aureya then, one foot already on the transporter platform.

"Now, next time Gaila visits her family on that 'off planet station', you'll come along, little rabbit, won't you?" Her smile had almost been shy, uncertain, as if she were asking too much.

Aureya had merely hugged her fiercely, kissed her on the mouth, the way she had by now come to regard as normal, and had whispered in her mother's ear:

"A herd of Andorian bulls couldn't keep me."

And then Iria had left, leaving a peculiar spot of warmth in Aureya's heart, as if a whole had just healed over and still felt a little out of place, something where there had been nothing before; but not uncomfortable in the slightest.

***

Between returning a rather bedraggled Enterprise to Earth and the ensuing celebrations once they had done so, none of the crew had so much as a moment to themselves. Once the euphoria of averted destruction had worn off, and the realisation hit, that Starfleet had lost almost an entire fleet of what comprised in large parts of cadets, all the proper grieving procedures had to be observed. Once again, privacy was not an option. Kirk's promotion to Captain, while deserved and welcome, was marred slightly by the knowledge that so many who should have witnessed it, were not there to do so.

In the end, it was not until a full three days after their return, that Aureya found herself outside Spock's quarters. He had been avoiding her, and she had a fairly solid idea as to why. As plans for a new Vulcan home-world were underway and his attention appeared to be focused entirely on his duties, Aureya suspected that the good fortune of T'Pring's survival had taken on greater importance in the face of near extinction. Steeling herself and rehearsing her well-prepared speech on last time in her head, she touched the pad on his door. Like it had been so many times before when anticipating his presence, her hand was shaking.

His "Enter" was crisp and commanding, the way it usually was, and as the door slid open, she saw him bent over papers at the small desk in his living room. When he looked up to face her, an odd expression flitted across his features, he appeared uncertain for a moment, some odd inner struggle taking place until he finally said:

"Aureya, please come in. May I offer you some tea?"

She realised he had been battling with how to address her, and while he had settled on her first name, his tone was clipped, official.

She merely stared at him for a minute, until the sound of the door sliding shut behind her shook her from her stupor. She balled her hands at her sides and took a deep breath; one final 'you can do this' flitted through her mind before she willed her voice to be strong and clear:

"No, thank you, Spock. I've come to make a certain proposition, would you be kind enough to let me speak without interruption?"

He looked momentarily puzzled, then nodded an uncertain agreement.

"I am well aware of the fact that you are bonded to T'Pring and are, considering the circumstances, going to be married very soon."

Spock opened his mouth to speak, but she shushed him, glaring slightly and whispered: "Please, you promised… and I won't be able to say this unless you let me finish."

He attempted to speak again, but she simply ignored him this time and continued:

"I fully understand that your public show of affection towards me was entirely due to the situation we found ourselves in. It felt as if my heart had been ripped out of my chest when I thought that you were dead and…" She had to pause here, tears threatening to get the better of her.

"I understand how important social conventions and family honour are to you, and I would never ask that you abandon either for me, but I will not accept being without you, not after I thought I'd lost you. So, if you would consent to it, I would ask that you consider me as a mistress. I will not make demands on you in any…"

Aureya was forced to stop as Spock stood from his position at the desk, pushing the chair back noisily and glaring at her as if she had insulted him.

Panicking, she attempted to explain:

"I don't mean to compromise your moral integrity, I just mean to make the best out of… I… I will not accept a no for an answer, I am willing to do whatever it takes to preserve whatever outward façade you need to present, but _I will not be without you_." Her voice had progressively gained strength during her speech, making her final sentence forceful enough to cause Spock to blink, but her eyes appeared unwilling to play along and betrayed her as a few tears escaped their confines.

"What leads you to believe that I would accept such a preposterous offer?" He was still behind his desk, both hands flat on the work-surface, his body leaning forward. There was a low and barely controlled quality to his voice, as if he were struggling to make his vocal cords obey.

"What would possess you to assume that I would allow you to put yourself in such a position?" He was angry now. Aureya recognised the signs in the downward quirk of his lips and the slant of his eyebrows, but she refused to cave in.

"You've been avoiding me… again. And I know that it's foolish, but I thought that after what happened you would be willing to reconsider…" She shook her head, looking at the floor, then raised her eyes to his again.

"Tell me you don't love me. Tell me you don't want to be with me and I'll go. But don't you dare start with all that honour bullshit and talk of what you will and will not allow me to do for my own sake. My morals are mine to do with as I please, and in case you hadn't noticed, I'm part Orion, we don't hang our self-worth on trivial things like that." Her hands were on her hips now, her head tilted slightly to the side, her chin up. Indignation was a glorious thing.

_**Spock**_

He could barely keep his arms from trembling, but he did not dare remove his hands from his desk, they were keeping him in place, preventing him from abandoning all semblance of civility and throwing himself right at her. He could feel his fingers curling, his nails biting into the wood in his sheer desperation.

She was taking a step towards him, and fighting every lower urge in his body, he attempted to stop her:

"You are misunderstanding my reasons for avoiding you." He barely recognised his voice, it was trembling with strain now, lower than he had ever heard it, as if it were trying to betray his need.

"I am immeasurably grateful for T'Pring's survival, she is a credit to our race, and will in due course enrich the Vulcan gene-pool with her and Stonn's children."

This caused Aureya to halt her approach, her eyes went wide and she looked too stunned to speak; Spock decided a prolonged conversation would benefit him greatly, as it enabled him to divert his attention from other things, such as the way a stray curl had escaped her braided hair and was brushing the side of her neck. He swallowed briefly, closed his eyes and then continued.

"T'Pring informed me of her attachment on my last visit to Vulcan. You remember her requesting a private conversation with me, I presume? She took my rather obvious affection for you as an opportunity to request that we mutually release each other from our bond. It is not a common practice and socially frowned upon, but we both considered the consequences acceptable."

Still looking confused, Aureya absentmindedly bit her bottom lip while shaking her head slightly. Spock groaned inwardly, attempting, and failing miserably, to tear his gaze away from her mouth.

"But… why have you been avoiding me?" She now looked distinctly hurt. Clearly what should have been welcome news, was now perceived as an immense personal slight. To his trepidation, she proceeded to move towards him again, the pain in her eyes and the confusion in her face causing him ho dig his nails deeper into his desk, forcing himself to keep from reaching out for her.

Directing his gaze downward, away from her, he managed the most basic of explanations:

"I am currently **not** experiencing pon farr, however, all Vulcan mating can be violent and aggressive, it is a socially disruptive force, which is precisely why it has been limited to those instances where non-compliance is not an option, where it becomes biologically necessary." His breathing had become erratic, his voice even lower and breathy. He could smell her now, all her maddening sweetness mixed with that slightly woody, earthy scent that was all her own.

And then she was beside him; her face now calm, composed; and ever so slowly she reached out for his left hand and gently eased it off the surface of his desk. The feel of her skin against his, of her fingers brushing over his own, that look in her eyes that spoke of nothing but kind thoughts, almost made him snap. Almost, but not quite yet, he managed to control himself until she lifted his hand to her mouth and gently kissed one fingertip after the other.

His right arm, still partially supporting him on the desk, began to shake violently and he had to push himself off, had to face her more fully now. Her eyes were closed and she held his index finger between her lips, then tentatively, she touched the tip of her tongue to it. He groaned, his eyes tolled back, and his eyelids fluttered shut as he slumped forward towards her. Almost blindly, his arms wrapped around her, removing his finger from her mouth, one hand at the nape of her neck, the other one on her hip. He pulled her into his body with all the possessive fervour he felt, but tortured himself by not allowing his lips to meet hers. Instead he kissed her temple, then moved slightly upwards to bury his face in her hair and inhale that scent, all the while holding her painfully close. Her breath was coming in little gasps now, her hands were on his back and she was on the tips of her toes, trying to reach his mouth, which was still far out of her reach.

"Please, Spock." She whispered, her lips brushing his throat as she spoke, and making him shiver "You won't hurt me."

His last fragment of control forced him to push her away, holding her at arm's length, his entire body now shaking with want.

"Physical strength in my species is considerably greater than…" he began, small gasps escaping between words. Aureya simply stroked his shoulder blades, she was now back on her feet, no longer balancing precariously on her toes, so that when she spoke, it was into his chest, this time:

"I broke my arm once, the only bone I've ever broken in my life." She paused to place a small kiss on the dark fabric of his uniform. Spock felt the warmth of her breath trough the material and could not focus sufficiently to wonder at the odd turn the conversation had taken.

"I fell out of a tree in our back garden. It was an oak, more than 300 years old,… or so my father claims. I'd made it all the way to the top before I fell." She kissed his chest again, then inhaled deeply.

Spock's right hand was now stroking her hair, she was leaning into his touch and making a contented little sound, almost a mixture between a sigh and a purr.

"I do not quite comprehend your meaning." He told her, his eyes closed, his focus now completely on her hair. As she spoke again, she reached up and unbraided it slowly, allowing him to loosen her curls with his fingers. He groaned slightly at the feel of the silky strands slipping through his fingers.

"Orion men are about twice the size of the females, they are also considerably stronger, as a result…"

He silenced her with the most tentative of kisses, brushing his lips over hers for merely a moment, not trusting himself to release her again, should he linger a second too long.

"I have no desire to test the limits of your physical endurance."

He looked a little taken aback at the grin his comment brought forth on her mouth.

"You don't?" She smiled brightly at him, and this time seemed to be no longer willing to wait for his compliance, as once again she stood on tip-toes, reached up for his face and pulled it down towards hers. As gently as she had touched him before, as much as she had handles him like a frightened animal, the kiss she now placed on his lips was almost violent. There was one final moment of hesitation on his part, and then her tongue brushed over the tip of his own, and he let go.

He had never kissed her like this before, without restraint, without some part of his mind telling him that he was not allowed, not supposed, not intended, to do this. He permitted himself to fully taste her, to suck her lower lip into his mouth, to bite her, to lick the side of her neck, to kiss that spot just behind her ear that made her press herself that much closer to him.

And he permitted himself to think of what was below those lips, below that neck. Her hands had made their way beneath the top part of his uniform, one was stroking his lower back, the other one was on his belly, making its way towards his chest. They were uncertain, shy in some way. He took a small step back to look at her. Her face was flushed and her lips slightly swollen and parted, her hair, now loose, was already dishevelled from his attentions, but there was no doubt in her face, no fear. And suddenly he knew with indubitable certainty that he would indeed never hurt her. As much as he wanted her, craved her physically, his emotional attachment, his need to protect her, formed one homogenous whole that would not be divided into its components.

_**Aureya**_

He looked at her with the most peculiar expression in his eyes. Had her cheeks not already been burning, indicating that they would be pink over her usual pale green, she would have blushed at the intensity of his gaze. She did not know what to expect next, what to do next. She knew he had only marginally more experience then her, and from what she had gathered, most of it had been collected in a state of mental imbalance, but she wanted to please him, wanted to do the right thing. A small frown stole onto her face before she could stop it. At the worried quirk of his eyebrow she was quick to assure him:

"I'm not sure what to…"

To her surprise, he smiled at her, that tiny, beautiful lift of both corners of his mouth, and bent down to place a butterfly kiss on her forehead. He reached out for her hand, closing his eyes briefly as she wound her fingers through his, and pulled her away from the desk, past the small kitchen and into a room she had not seen before, his bedroom. He pulled her towards him almost leisurely, kissing her gently, at first. She felt almost like an over-eager puppy as she met every brush of his tongue with her own, struggling to keep from whimpering for more, but after a few torturing moments, he deepened the kiss again, plunging his tongue deep into her mouth and pressing his entire body against hers. His hands, which usually touched her hair or waist, made their way to the hem of her uniform shirt, pushed beneath, and after he had pulled away slightly and giving her a questioning look to which she had responded with a small smile, pulled it over her head. She had no time to feel self-conscious, as he removed his own uniform shirt and pulled her close again, making her entire body shiver at the feel of his bare skin touching hers. His breath caused her skin to form goose bumps as it ghosted over her neck, small kisses and bites making her quiver as he reached her shoulder and pushed aside the strap of her bra. She closed her eyes when he began to kiss the top of her breast, then reached for her other shoulder to slide down the second strap and push the entire garment down to her waist.

"Fascinating." He whispered a mere centimetre from her nipple, the disturbed air and the vibrations of his voice making it tighten and causing her to moan. "I would never have imagined them to be pink, I must confess I was surprised that day outside the mess hall. They have occupied more of my thoughts since then than I would have been willing to admit." She knew he was toying with her, prolonging the moment, but she could not help the small desperate whimper, followed by a rather pathetic little "please", that made their way out of her mouth.

As his lips closed around her nipple and she curled forward, he caught her, and lifted her, never taking his mouth from her breast. He laid her gently on his bed, all immaculate white sheets and crisp corners, and stroked both hands over her sides while biting down gently on her nipple. She gasped slightly, curling towards him again, as he tried to push her down once more, she refused, wriggling downward and kissing the top of his chest tentatively. He was supporting himself on his arms, poised over her, and watched in fascination as she made her way towards his own nipple, when she placed her lips over it and licked the tiny bud, he grunted audibly and let his head drop forward. He pulled her back up rather forcefully and kissed her possessively, his hands finding the clasps on her uniform trousers, opening them and divesting her of the item in surprisingly little time. He struggled with her boots for a moment, the buckles being on opposite sides for male and female versions, but finally succeeded without having to abandon her mouth once. She took off her own socks with her feet, then managed to focus her attention on his trousers. About a minute later all that remained between them were two items of standard issue Starfleet underwear.

His kisses had turned rough by then, his hands were no longer asking permission before they touched possessively. Aureya had abandoned all self-control and was moaning at every brush of his tongue, every grasp of his fingers. Spock buried his face in her neck as he reached for her panties, sliding his hands down the side of her hips, into the cotton material and downwards, she pulled up her legs to help him with the final part, and pulled both legs out of them. He gently brushed his hands over her belly, inching closer to the dark brown curls now exposed, on every repetition. His face still in her neck, he was breathing heavily and when his fingers found the damp little bundle of nerves between her legs, they both moaned.

Things turned frantic after that. Aureya fisted her hand in Spock's hair and pulled him towards her into another kiss, desperate this time; her other hand was trying to divest him of his underwear, but she was too distracted by what his hand was doing to fully focus. He ended up having to do it himself, rushing in his need to get closer to her. He had now abandoned all gentleness, his fingers bruising her tights as he opened her legs wide. Aureya whimpered with the mixture of pleasure and pain, and when he finally pushed inside of her, she dug her fingers into his back and bit his shoulder, hard, the pain eclipsed by the sensation of finally being this close to him.

He whispered a garbled "Forgive me" into her hair, but she simply held him closer, wrapping her legs around him and attempted to push him deeper, and muttered "no, no… nothing to forgive" and after kissing him again, frantically and with everything she had within her, she added: "Thank you."

It didn't last very long, both of them were entirely too consumed with the sensation of the other to care much for anything beyond the feel of each other's skin, for the movement of their bodies against each other, the taste of the other's mouth, the sound of the other's moans. He came inside her with a strangle cry, pulling her towards him with, once again, bruising force. She sobbed quietly, overwhelmed by it all, and curled into his body as he held her and stroked her back.

"Did I injure you?" His voice was a little uneven still, his breathing audible.

"Not in a bad way." Her response was muffled as she pressed her face further into his chest.

They did not speak after that, simply held each other, their skin damp with sweat, their mouths bruised from the fervour of their kisses. Aureya drifted off to sleep with the odd sensation of feeling complete and utter contentment.


	21. Epilogue

**A/N: OK, so the response to Spacepirates was overwhelming, the one to ReUnion, not so much. I struggled long and hard with the question of whether to put the rating up to M… I don't know if I pulled off the bedroom scene, maybe that is why some of my regular reviewers were so quiet this time. I didn't want to go overboard with it, I tried to focus on keeping it sweet and a little fumbly, since it's their first time… don't know if that worked, though. Also, rating something as M and then not providing any smut till chapter 20… and then fumbly, awkward smut at that, seems a little mean, but ah well…**

**I just hope that after all the build up I didn't let you guys down. **

**Well… shoulda, woulda, coulda… this is it folks… all done!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek or any of its characters. I DO own Aureya Newman, Shrem P'Grell, Commander Alexander Lennox, Captain Miriam Taylor, Commander Gnall, Commander Walton, Captain Iria and her crew, and a few others who have slipped my mind now… bad creator, bad creator. (Who would have thought I'd get this kind of oddly rich…?)**

Spock awoke at his usual time of 0400 hours precisely, only to notice the rather _un_usual sensation of something heavy and warm draped across part of his body. It took his substantial mental faculties a few fraction of a second to realise why exactly this should not alarm him, and when he had pieced all the details together, he smiled quietly to himself, leaned over and placed a kiss on the side of Aureya's face.

Unsurprisingly, she slept like a child, sprawled across the bed, arms and legs wide, her hands in small fists on either side of her face, her mouth open only a fraction, and her hair in complete disarray.

He supposed the state of her hair was not entirely her own doing, remembering their third physical encounter, during which she had straddled his lap and he had fisted one hand in the brown curls, while the other had been onto her hip, keeping her steady. Or the fifth, when he had been behind her and she had fallen forward on completion of her climax and had rolled over to smile at him, her hair sticking to parts of her neck and forehead, damp from the exertion, the rest of it fanning out beneath her on his rumpled sheets.

He wondered if it would be entirely inappropriate to wake her at this hour and seek a renewal of the previous night's activities, and remembering her temper and the likelihood of her not being what would be referred to as a 'morning person', he concluded that it would be.

At the realisation of his own continuous desire for her, Spock further wondered if the socially appropriate regulation of the Vulcan libido would not be the preferable approach to a relationship, but then he remembered her face all flushed, her eyes bright, and her breathing heavy, remembered the sensations her body brought forth in his own, and decided that he had made the right decision. Not that he really had any choice in the matter, not when she had just grabbed his hand and had…

He was unable to allow his higher reasoning to remain in control and woke her after all, he was convinced he would find a way of appeasing any substantial disdain and counter potential objections on her part, to being awake at 0411 hours.

---

She made it into the turbo lift just before the doors slid shut. Her hair still refused to obey, the final three buttons of her uniform were still undone, and her bag was open as she struggled to shove her PDA and a volume of newly borrowed Vulcan poetry into it. Finally looking up, she noticed Admiral Pike leaning on his cane, grinning from ear to ear.

"I'm not actually here, you know that, right?" she smiled brightly at him.

"Oh I know…_or_, we could just pretend that the bite mark on your neck and the one on your lower lip are from Ensign Chekov." His expression was far too amused for her liking.

"Well, he's still faculty… also, I don't really think he's the type, do you?"

"I must admit, I hadn't given it that much thought. I think it would be a little disturbing if I had." He tilted his head to the side, still grinning widely.

"You do realise that you are late for my class?" He added, giving her a mock frown.

"Not if I beat you to the lecture theatre." As if on cue the lift doors opened and she bolted.

"You can't race a cripple, it's unethical." He shouted after her.

"Oh, don't be such a baby, Bones said you only have to be on that cane for another four weeks." She whirled around giving him her best evil grin.

"Aren't you being a little familiar with a higher ranking officer, Cadet?" He only barely managed to keep the fake frown on his face this time.

"You wish, Admiral, you wish." With that, she spun around again and made it all the way to the theatre, into her seat next to Shrem, and even managed to get her PDA out before Pike hobbled through the door after her.

"Holy Mackerel, what happened to you?" P'Grell whispered as he leaned over to button up her uniform. Before she had a chance to answer, he sucked in an audible breath and continued:

"Dear Lord, is that a bite mark?... He's a biter?... I don't think I wanted to know that… Stop grinning like an idiot, Eya, I'm feeling seriously nauseas here!"

She really tried to do as he asked; she just couldn't.

---

Aureya was sitting on his desk, feet dangling; she wore civilian clothing, the term having ended only two days ago, and had come by to help him store his things safely for the summer. She looked around his office and noted with a small wrinkling of her nose:

"You'd think now that we're all bona fide heroes they'd give you a bigger place, I can't believe they've assigned you the same office for next year."

"I don't mind, I like it." Pavel told her honestly. "Also, this vay all my students know where to ffind me."

"Well, it's a good thing you're teaching for the Science Department and not Navigation, otherwise that would have been one sad statement." She smiled that impish smile of hers, and he couldn't help but laugh.

A soft knock on the door startled them both a little, and they turned to see and elderly Vulcan gentleman regarding them a little uncertainly from the open doorway.

"Forgive me, it appears I have made my way to the wrong office." He informed them with the smallest amount of confusion in the slant of his eyebrows.

Both Pavel and Aureya burst into a fit of laughter at the sheer coincidence, but Pavel caught himself first and apologised profusely:

"I am so sorry, ve vere not laughing at you, Sirr, simply at something ve vere speaking about a moment ago, and…"

"I am not insulted, Mr Chekov, I can assure you."

Oi ya, knew exactly who that was; and judging from the rather abrupt end of giggles coming from his desk, cut off by a small hick up sound, he figured, so did Eya.

"Ambassador Spock." He ventured.

"Mr Chekov." Came the efficient reply.

_Now what? _

Looking to his right, he noticed that Eya was staring, mouth open. He didn't even want to imagine how creepy this must be for her. Very much at a loss as to whether this was the right thing to do, Pavel cleared his throat and continued:

"You know Cadet Newman, of course." Then felt like a complete idiot, trying to figure out if he should have just kept his mouth shut, for all he knew, things could have ended badly between the two, otherwise he would imagine he'd have …

"I have not had the pleasure, no." He gave a curt nod in Eya's direction, then focused all his attention back on Pavel.

"I am afraid I seem to have lost my way… Or rather, this used to be my office,… in my reality." Taking a quick look around the room he quirked an eyebrow and added a quiet "fascinating."

Pavel could only stare now, too.

"Have I said something unexpected, Mr Chekov? I am deducing from the expression on both your and the cadet's face, that there is something amiss."

Pavel simply reached for his com, pressed Spock's contact details and announced in a strangled little voice:

"Sirr, vould you mind picking yourself up ffrom my office?" He disconnected the call before the older man even had a chance to acknowledge his request. Pavel never took his eyes off the older Spock.

"Vould you like come coffee, or some tea vhile you vait?" Pavel tried meekly.

"No coffee… Talaxian herbal tea… no sugar… extra weak…" came a stunned murmur from his right.

"Oh yes, I knew that…"

Spock was now eying them with a mildly quizzical expression, stepped fully into the office and gave them both another quiet "fascinating", before stopping in his tracks. He was now returning the favour, and was openly staring at Aureya, or rather, at her neck.

"May I inquire as to the origins of the pendant you are wearing?" His voice was low, almost angry, recognisable in that emotion only to the well-accustomed ear of a close acquaintance.

Eya looked completely stunned and gaped at him, opening her mouth a couple of times, before placing a hand over her eyes and muttering:

"Fermat's dick, we're back to that."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Mr Chekov, I am not entirely aware if you have been instructed in proper communications etiquette, but making a rather cryptic request and then disconn…. Oh." The same voice that had spoken with barely disguised outrage a moment ago, equally outraged but significantly younger, had just come from the still open doorway.

"It appears that one of your students, one I am unfamiliar with, has wrongfully acquired a precious family heirloom." The older Spock's voice was prim, somewhat on the stern side.

"It appears introductions are in order." The younger man's reply sounded a little stunned, but mostly compassionate.

---

"So let me get this straight: You're officially going home to Canada, only you're not. And you're officially single, only you're not. Unofficially you're screwing one of you're instructors, and are spending your summer at a pirate space station somewhere off Tellar. Did I get that right?"

Aureya paused from her task of shoving clothes into her bag, gave him a rather self-satisfied grin, and simply said:

"Yup."

Shrem put his arms around her and squeezed hard:

"Baby, I'm so proud of you… all grown up, and practically a felon."

Jim, who was sprawled across Shrem's bed chuckled, and Gaila, over in the kitchen, no doubt mistreating their dinner, gave a little contented sigh.

"Noyota'll be fat by the time we get back." She sounded almost wistful.

"Don't call it fat… the girl has the strength of two grown men, she'll have your head off in no time if she hears you referring to it like that." Aureya laughed.

Jim launched himself off the bed and made an overdramatic show of launching himself at Gaila and grabbing her around her waist, pulling her towards him.

"If you don't watch out, I'll make sure you'll be starting to get fat by the end of the summer, we have a full four hours left." He kissed her sloppily on the neck.

"Why, Captain Kirk, you're an officer now… this so inappropriate." They both grinned at Eya evilly.

"Oh shut up and go screw already." She growled at them playfully.

Shrem couldn't contain the rather undignified giggle that insisted on bursting forth.

**A/N: Right, so apparently I'm a big soppy idiot. I had no idea this was going to be soooooo nauseatingly happy slappy… oh well, it's freezing cold outside, work beckons tomorrow, a little sugary overdose can't hurt.**

**I made Pike whole, 'cause he wasn't in a blinking metal box at the end.**

**They're all still at the Academy, because the five year mission does not start for a few years… in case you were wondering.**

**One final request for reviews for this story: be nice, say goodbye.**

**Lots of Love**

**R**


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